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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020011">Slightly All The Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatojuicee/pseuds/tomatojuicee'>tomatojuicee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Present [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Best friend's brother, Coming of Age, M/M, Minho Hyunjin and Jeongin are brothers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:09:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatojuicee/pseuds/tomatojuicee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two things change in very swift succession in Jisung's uneventful life: First he learns that his best friend Hyunjin is interested in guys. And then he meets Hyunjin's older brother, Minho.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Present [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>193</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes: This fic takes place in the same universe after The Present, which you don't necessarily have to read to understand what's going on here, but it definitely enhances the reading experience and I recommend it. Jisung is 18 in international age and 19 in Korean age (20 is the legal age in Korea) and Minho is 21(in international age, 22 in Korea). In this fic, all the characters are respectful of the age of consent. Still if the age difference bothers you please don't read!</p><p>New fic! Chaptered! My first time ever using the Series function on this website! And it's not The Boyz (dives for cover). This is just for fun, so who knows when I'll update LOL It's my ~passion project~</p><p>Title taken from the Soft Machine song of the same name- great song, great band.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey Seungmin! I’m here-”</p><p>“Hwang Hyunjin! I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes now! The waiter came and asked if I was ready to order my drink three times already!”</p><p>“Sorry, my pain in the ass brothers were holding me up.”</p><p>“Again...?”</p><p>“...Yes? Maybe?”</p><p>“Hyunjin.. how come when we’re just hanging out, you’re always on time, but when we’re studying together, you’re always late? I’m beginning to sense a pattern.”</p><p>“Sorry! I’ll pay for our drinks and snacks this time.”</p><p>“What? No! You paid last time too, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“No, Seungmin, I’ve got it.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Hey.. quit pouting like that. You look wrinkly. Well, more than usual.”</p><p>“Apologize.”</p><p>“Sorry Seungmin...”</p><p>“That face won’t work on me. You’ve got to do better than that.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Still not good enough.”</p><p>“Well.. I brought you something.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s something I thought you might like. You know how I told you my brother is a writer?”</p><p>“How could I forget! That’s so cool- wait, didn’t you say his book just got published?”</p><p>“Why don’t you see for yourself~”</p><p>“No way! Aw, thank you so much Hyunjin. I can’t wait to read this!”</p><p>
“Since I never got you a Christmas gift and you gave me those photos and everything... Minho read some of it to us and it kinda reminded me of you so.. y’know.. yeah.”</p><p>“Thank you Hyunjin. Really.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, it- it’s nothing.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Wh- why are you smiling at me like that Seungmin? Yah Kim Seungmin, snap out of it or the waiter won’t be able to take your order for the fourth time.”</p><p>“Who knew that gift-giving was the way to make <em> the </em> Hwang Hyunjin flustered?”</p><p>“Shut the hell up, before I decide I’m not paying anymore. And I’m not flustered!”</p><p>“Whatever you say...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've got <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jisung took his usual route to his and Hyunjin’s favorite spot to eat. It was a donkatsu place they’d discovered way back in middle school. If they agreed to hangout, it was an unspoken rule that they were meeting for donkatsu first.</p><p>It was roughly 250 steps from the building he lived in to the bus stop, depending on how perky he was feeling on the day. On the way, he took three turns, the first to the right and then two to the left. When he rounded the right turn, he would see a bright green storefront and the sounds of the family who owned it arguing from the second floor. One left turn later, and one of the residents on this block was always practicing piano, without fail. And on the final turn to the bus stop, the ground was always waterlogged this time of year, and the earliest cherry blossoms were just beginning to bud as winter snows melted into spring.</p><p>Jisung got on his usual bus and closed his eyes against the window. When he opened them, like clockwork, the bus was just pulling up at his stop. All these things happened day after day, year after year, as sure as the Earth spun.</p><p>As sure as Jisung’s life, rotating on its axis twenty four hours a day and always returning to the same place it began.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung got inside the donkatsu place and searched for Hyunjin at their usual table. It was occupied already. Maybe Hyunjin was sitting somewhere else? Jisung got up on his toes and scanned the establishment, but no sign of his friend. Strange. Well, Hyunjin was known to be late.</p><p>Jisung was just about to settle down to wait when his phone vibrated in his back pocket. It was Hyunjin.</p><p>“Hey man, where are you-”</p><p>“You’re not at the donkatsu place are you-”</p><p>Jisung and Hyunjin spoke at the same time the instant Jisung picked up the phone. This tended to happen a lot.</p><p>“You bet your ass I’m at the donkatsu place,” Jisung said, “Where are you?”</p><p>There was a groan from the other end of the line. “Jisung, didn’t I tell you? We’re not eating there today.”</p><p>“No you didn’t,” Jisung protested, but then he thought about it and realized hey, maybe he did remember Hyunjin mentioning a different place.</p><p>“Don’t bullshit me,” Hyunjin sniped. “I’ll text you the address again, tell me when you get it.”</p><p>“Fine, fine.” A moment later Jisung received a KakaoTalk notification and he opened it. “This is... a seolleongtang place?” The disbelief was clear in his voice. Traditional bone broth soup. Seolleongtang was way too bland for Hyunjin’s taste.</p><p>“Yeah? What about it?”</p><p>“I thought you didn’t like old-fashioned places. You like trendy stuff,” Jisung felt the need to remind Hyunjin. It was one of the laws of the universe.</p><p>“Well, this is what Seungmin likes.”</p><p>Jisung was beyond grateful that his brain to mouth filter worked for once and he caught himself from ejecting a “Who’s Seungmin?” out into the world. He’d completely forgotten, Hyunjin said he wanted to introduce Jisung to a new friend of his today. Instead, he corrected himself and said, “Okay, I’ll see you there.”</p><p>“And hurry!” Was the last thing he heard from Hyunjin before his friend hung up.</p><p>Jisung was good natured enough to hurry himself back to the bus stop. He felt bad for forgetting about Hyunjin’s friend too. On the unfamiliar journey to the new meeting place, Jisung wondered who this ‘Seungmin’ guy could be. He racked his brains but didn’t know any Seungmin at their school other than that super smart kid so in the end he assumed it was someone from outside of school.</p><p>He got to the seolleongtang place just a little out of breath. It was a really cozy looking establishment nestled between a fishing shop and a traditional music store. Not really the place he’d expect to see Hyunjin at. Regardless, he went in and easily found Hyunjin waiting alone at a table. It was the kind of restaurant where the tables were low to the ground and you sat on cushions on the floor, and you could tell they fermented their own banchan because you could smell the kimchi from the backroom. One of Hyunjin’s folded legs bounced up and down as Jisung dropped his phone to the table and plopped down across from him.</p><p>“Finally!” Hyunjin sounded both irate and relieved.</p><p>“Sorry,” Jisung said in a rush of breath, “I was thinking about it on the way here and I realized maybe you did say something about meeting here- Say, where’s your friend? Is he late too?”</p><p>“I did, and there’s proof,” Hyunjin snapped, shoving his phone into Jisung’s face. Their chat was open and Hyunjin had scrolled up to three days ago when he’d sent the address of the restaurant already. While Jisung was processing this information and trying to avoid getting his face flattened against the screen, Hyunjin continued: “And no, Seungmin isn’t late, I told him to come later since I knew you would be late and I didn’t want to waste his time.”</p><p>“Me!? Late?!” Jisung squawked. “That’s rich coming from you, Hyunjin!”</p><p>Hyunjin bristled. “I was on time today, wasn’t I?” He checked the time on his phone. “He should be coming in a couple of minutes so you just got here in time.”</p><p>“Who is this guy anyways? Why don’t you just bring him the next time we go to the PC bang? Why do I have to meet him like this?”</p><p>Hyunjin shrugged. “I just wanted you to meet him first.” He picked up his spoon and started peeling at its paper sleeve. It was only then that Jisung realized Hyunjin’s leg was still jiggling under the table.</p><p>“Well, okay.” Jisung dropped the subject and moved on to ranting about the new PUBG patch. He’d find out soon enough anyways.</p><p>They talked for a bit more and then a gust of cool air came from the front, signalling a new entrance. Hyunjin whipped his head towards the door. The auntie at the front said some greetings, this person was obviously a regular here, and a boyish voice replied back. Hyunjin’s leg bounced even faster.</p><p>Jisung craned his head to see if it was this Seungmin person but he couldn’t see over the dividers. The voice thanked the auntie again and seconds later a boy rounded the dividers and made a noise of recognition when he laid eyes on Hyunjin and Jisung.</p><p>“You got our same table from last time,” Kim Seungmin, Class 109, career nerd, Rank #1 in their year exclaimed, a smile creeping onto his face.</p><p>“Jisung, this is Seungmin. Seungmin, this is Jisung.” Hyunjin jumped to make introductions.</p><p>Jisung could barely close his jaw as he nodded and smiled at Seungmin. “Nice to meet you, outside of school I mean.” It was really that nerd from their year!</p><p>Seungmin gave a nervous smile and an equally awkward half bow and said “You too.”</p><p>“Here Seungmin, sit down.” Hyunjin scooted towards the wall and patted his now vacant cushion. Seungmin took his coat off and settled next to Hyunjin, and in retrospect that should have been Jisung’s first sign.</p><p>“So,” Hyunjin said after a beat of silence, “We should decide what we’re ordering.” He passed a menu across the table to Jisung and kept the other one for him and Seungmin to share.</p><p>Jisung studied the grubby laminated card in his hands, feeling lost. When he looked across the table, Hyunjin was fully absorbed in considering the menu. He was holding it out with one hand and both his and Seungmin’s heads were tilted towards each other to read.</p><p>“I’m thinking about getting the seolleongtang with brisket and tripe again,” Hyunjin said to Seungmin.</p><p>“You said it was too bland and practically poured the whole container of salt into the soup.”</p><p>“So? I liked it after that.”</p><p>“When I tried yours I could barely taste anything but the salt! You know it’s okay to just order the yukgaejang with ramen.”</p><p>"And have you give me the same shit as last time?"</p><p>Seungmin laughed. "I didn't say anything bad about it!"</p><p>"You said 'the last time <em> I </em>ordered that I was taking my middle school placement tests'," Hyunjin parroted, clearly enjoying himself.</p><p>"And what's wrong with that?”</p><p>“It’s childish Seungmin! You accused me of being childish.”</p><p>The menu Hyunjin held in front of the pair acted as a divider of sorts and Jisung watched the exchange from the other side.</p><p>“You can’t change my mind! I know my order by now,” Hyunjin said finally.</p><p>Hyunjin knowing his order at a seolleongtang place? Jisung felt like running outside to check if the sky was falling. He cleared his throat and Hyunjin and Seungmin seemed to realize he was there too.</p><p>“I’m not really sure to order,” Jisung admitted. The last time he’d come to one of these places was when his parents took him, and well, that hadn’t happened in a while.</p><p>Hyunjin turned to Seungmin, obviously he was the expert here. “Well,” Seungmin began, “Do you like seolleongtang?”</p><p>Jisung smiled sheepishly. “Well, not really. I guess you could say I have childish taste.”</p><p>“Aha!” Hyunjin slapped an enthusiastic finger down on the picture of yukgaejang on the menu and Jisung found himself sharing an understanding smile with Seungmin across the table. Well, they were both familiar with Hyunjin’s antics then.</p><p> </p><p>Later when they’d all ordered (seolleongtang for Hyunjin and Seungmin and yukgaejang for Jisung), Jisung asked, "So, how did you guys meet?". There was a lot to be curious about. He had a hard time naming two more opposite people.</p><p>Hyunjin glanced between Jisung and Seungmin, who were both looking at him expectantly, and realized after a moment that they were both waiting for him to answer. </p><p>"Um, the library." Hyunjae said. </p><p>Jisung's eyebrows flew up. "Man, you never go to the library!"</p><p>This startled a laugh out of Seungmin. “And it shows,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting nervously again.</p><p>“..Right?!” Jisung blurted.</p><p>There was a pregnant pause and then Hyunjin was shouting incredulously, “What is that supposed to mean!?” and both Jisung and Seungmin were unsuccessfully trying to bite back their snickers.</p><p>That helped to break the ice. Jisung felt his usual stiffness upon meeting new people recede bit by bit. It helped that Hyunjin was there, and to be honest, Seungmin was just that nerdy kid from their year. Even with his natural tendencies towards shyness, Jisung found it hard to be intimidated by him.</p><p>Their bowls arrived piping hot and steaming like smoke machines. Jisung blew at a spoonful and watched Seungmin sift a bit of salt and pepper into his bowl and hand the seasonings to Hyunjin, who began shoveling salt into his bowl.</p><p>“Would you like to use this?” Jisung offered his soup spoon, which was about five times larger than the seasoning spoon Hyunjin was currently struggling with.</p><p>Hyunjin gave Jisung a death glare and dumped one last hulking spoonful into his bowl before replacing the condiments at the head of their table while Seungmin snorted.</p><p>Jisung got to know more about Seungmin as they ate. Apparently he was into photography, already planning on studying Criminal Law in university to become a defense attorney, and had collected Magic the Gathering cards when he was younger (so had Jisung!) before his parents forced him to stop to focus on studying. He was a pretty cool guy, the type who seemed to know a little gem of trivia about everything, and at one point he and Jisung went pretty far down the rabbithole in a conversation about the courting rituals of birds of paradise. (Peacocking would be the colloquial term.) Jisung had just binge watched a nature channel on youtube, okay?</p><p>Slowly however, Jisung realized that Hyunjin seemed to be doing a suspicious amount of peacocking himself. Just small things. Glances at Seungmin to confirm he had his attention before launching into a story. His body turned towards Seungmin even when he was listening to Jisung. Laughing a little too loud, face a little too flushed. And the thing was, if Jisung was reading things right, and he must be- otherwise why would Seungmin even agree to hangout with Hyunjin in the first place- Hyunjin’s attention wasn’t unrequited.</p><p>Jisung blinked as Hyunjin pretended to splash his water into Seungmin’s face as the punchline of a joke, the two of them all smiles across the table. Jisung knew his friend’s go-to flirting moves like the back of his hand and there was only one reasonable explanation for what he was witnessing:</p><p>Hyunjin actually had something going on with Kim Seungmin.</p><p>Jisung went over how Hyunjin treated his past girlfriends - always keeping them separate from his friends. The most he’d give was a name and a picture, that was it. So it was funny. Funny that Hyunjin was introducing someone he likes to Jisung. Funny that it was a guy. Funny that it was Kim Seungmin.</p><p>Stepping outside, the boys were greeted by cold gusts of wind. Flowers might have begun to bud, but the unmistakable chill of winter lingered in the air. In contrast to the toasty eatery, Jisung found it refreshing. The three of them prepared to go their separate ways home. He was happy to meet Seungmin, and he meant it, but Jisung’s goodbyes came out on autopilot, his mind preoccupied with this new revelation about his friend.</p><p>Hyunjin looked very very pleased that things had gone over well, and Jisung was happy for that too. Jisung wasn’t sure if Hyunjin realized that he had realized. Hyunjin wore his heart on his sleeve, but sometimes he didn’t seem to be aware of it.</p><p>On the unfamiliar way home, Jisung thought about the last time he dated. He flirted around a lot at school. Well, he talked to lots of girls as long as he was with his friends. But dating...? The last time must have been.. in middle school? Which honestly didn't really count. </p><p>He checked the time on his phone. They’d talked until 3pm. He mapped to the closest PC bang and headed there, probably to play some League and then watch Man Builds Pool With A Stick videos on Youtube until his brain melted. It had been a long time since he had really liked someone enough to want to date them. Seeing Hyunjin with Seungmin, he couldn't help but wonder if that feeling would strike him again. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jisung shut the door to his family’s unit quietly behind him, waiting for the familiar soft click of the mechanism to let go of the handle. The front door opened to a hallway. The first room belonged to Jisung’s parents. The second, larger doorway led to the living room and kitchenette, and beyond that was the door to Jisung’s room. It was dark by the time he returned and the only light in the unit came from the living room. He slipped his shoes off at the entryway but kept his socks on and padded quickly down the hallway.</p><p>“Jisung, what were you doing all day?”</p><p>Jisung’s shoulders fell and he squinted into the bright living room as if a flashlight had been turned on him. His mother stared back at him from the family’s faded green couch, arms folded and remote clutched in one hand.</p><p>“Stuff,” Jisung said.</p><p>His mom narrowed her eyes. “Dinner is cold, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? I still haven’t eaten.”</p><p>“I keep telling you you don’t have to wait for me.” Jisung muttered.</p><p>“What if I just want to have a nice dinner at home with my only son? How long has it been since we’ve eaten together as a family? You’re just like your father, God knows what he’s doing out so late all the time.”</p><p>“I just lost track of time while I was studying,” Jisung said through his teeth.</p><p>“Studying? Bullshit!” She snapped. “I saw your grades from last term! They’re embarrassing! Do you know how embarrassing it is to meet Soobin and Beomgyu’s moms and hear them talk about their sons’ grades? I can barely talk to my friends because of you! Do you know how much I pay for you to attend classes after school? Do you know how much I went through so that you could test into your highschool? Think- just think about all of the money you’re wasting with grades like yours, do you ever <em> think </em>?”</p><p>Jisung just stood at the doorway to the living room and tuned out her shrill voice. He didn’t know if this was the best or worst stage of her usual rant. At least she was so busy cursing him out that he didn’t have to reply.</p><p>“I’m going to my room to study,” Jisung interrupted finally. “Happy now?”</p><p>“No you’re not, you’re going to sit down and eat dinner with your mother.”</p><p>“I already ate,” Jisung said. (He hadn’t.)</p><p>His mom placed the remote down on the couch and got to her feet. “Is your mother’s cooking not good enough for you?”</p><p>“I’m going to my room.” Jisung repeated, turning on his heel before she could start again. He stormed down the hall and slammed the door to his room. So much for not being noticed coming home. Hurling himself on his bed, he briefly considered if it would have been better for him to return sooner or later than he did, and then discarded the notion because the woman always found something to chew him out for regardless.</p><p>He learned a while ago that the best way to deal was to avoid her, either hide in his room or keep himself occupied outside of the house. In that way he was thankful that his friend group was so active (read: delinquent).</p><p>Jisung unlocked his phone and shot a message to the group chat.</p><p>Sent, 7:41 PM: <em> Sup. </em></p><p>Then he dug into his jacket pocket and retrieved the kimbap he’d bought from the convenience store near their building. He tossed his jacket in the direction of his desk chair and sat on the edge of his bed to unwrap it and take an unceremonious bite. Dinner while he waited for his friends to reply. He was so sick of convenience store kimbap at this point, but it was easy to sneak into his room in his jacket and it beat a whole hour at the dinner table with his mom.</p><p>He didn’t understand why his mom cared so much about keeping up the appearances of a functional family inside the walls of their own household. It was clear to Jisung that his parents’ relationship had eroded years ago. It wasn’t uncommon that Jisung was alone at home: his mom was out and about every day as a full time neighborhood gossip and his dad was always working late. Not that he’d take interest in Jisung anymore even if he had the time. So it was rare that the three of them were ever in the same room together anyways. At least it meant that his parents didn’t fight often, and when they did Jisung usually wasn’t around to see it.</p><p>Jisung sometimes wondered why his parents didn’t just admit defeat. Was it stubbornness, pride, the stigma of divorce? Did they believe, god forbid, that staying together was doing some kind of favor to Jisung? Every time Jisung asked himself the question, he realized that those were excuses, but none were real reasons.</p><p>Jisung realized the kimbap had disappeared; he was already finished. He sprawled out on his bed to deposit the cellophane wrapper in the little trash can at its foot. Lazing on his stomach, he checked his phone. No one had replied yet.</p><p>A familiar blank feeling washed over Jisung’s prone form, paradoxically filling and emptying him. He rifled through the file cabinets of his consciousness, looking for an activity that would keep his mind occupied until he felt tired enough to pass out. He thought about texting Hyunjin about Seungmin, but decided the inquisition could wait a while. Instead Jisung resigned to do nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>No, in the end, Jisung’s parents were simply too afraid of change.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>All just exposition so far... no Minho yet, sorry hehe</p><p>I've got <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If one thing was clear, it was that Sunwoo was in a foul mood by lunchtime.</p><p>“Hey man!” Jisung bounced up and slung an arm over Sunwoo’s shoulder from behind. Sunwoo’s face swung around towards him with a sneer just as Jisung caught Changbin making a no-go, abort mission gesture from Sunwoo’s other side.</p><p>As Sunwoo shrugged Jisung’s arm off, Jisung whined, “Aw come on man, what’s eating you?”</p><p>“Got demoted in PUBG,” Changbin supplied, giving Sunwoo a pat on the back. “We were playing in homeroom all morning.”</p><p>Jisung whistled. “Tough luck.” He produced a juice box from his bag to console Sunwoo. No one got heated over games more than Sunwoo did, and the guys had stopped trying to understand it and just tried to placate him before he went on any violent loss-streak induced rampages.</p><p>As they got their food in the cafeteria, Changbin said to Jisung under his breath, “I never said this, but Hyejoo and Gowon and Jiwoo were on the other team.”</p><p>“Ahhh,” Jisung nodded sagely. “That explains why he’s so pissy.” Sunwoo hated losing to girls, but he especially hated losing to pretty ones.</p><p>Eric and Hyunjin arrived at their table and they mostly pussyfooted around the irate Sunwoo, except for Eric who launched into an energetic retelling of some incident that had happened in his class. Eric was generally pretty good at neutralizing Sunwoo so they left the two alone.</p><p>It was a pretty mundane lunch period. Eric chattered the most and the loudest, Hyunjin complained about his brothers, Changbin voiced his delusions that his growth spurt was still yet to come, and Jisung dutifully listened in for any chances to roast his friends.</p><p>“Love Revolution?” Jisung perked up as he caught a bit of Eric and Sunwoo’s conversation.</p><p>“Come on bro, don’t tell me you really watch that drama?” Sunwoo nudged Eric.</p><p>“It’s fun, okay!” Eric put his hands up like he was innocent.</p><p>Changbin cut in, “The girl is cute!”</p><p>“Oh not you too!”</p><p>Jisung and Hyunjin leaned into the center of the table as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve never watched a school drama and tried to imagine what it would be like if they made one out of our school,” Jisung said.</p><p>Sunwoo rolled his eyes good-naturedly, clearly in better spirits. Eric was a worker of miracles. “Fine, but you’re not gonna convince me that Love Revolution isn’t a gay show,” he said with a laugh.</p><p>Eric and Changbin snorted. Hyunjin stiffened imperceptibly, not that anyone noticed, but Jisung had just had lunch with Hyunjin and Seungmin last week and he noticed. Jisung opened his mouth eager to change the subject but Hyunjin beat him to the punch:</p><p>“Did you hear the new Loco song? Shit, he got Heize to feature!”</p><p>That set the group off talking about the khiphop scene-they all loved rap-but Jisung’s eyes lingered on Hyunjin a little longer, even as he spoke animatedly about all of his favorite verses.</p><p>When lunch ended, Hyunjin collected his stuff and was emptying his tray at the other side of the cafeteria before Jisung could even blink.</p><p>“Dude! Wait up!” Jisung called after Hyunjin, who gave him a squint from across the swarms of students. Jisung scrambled out of the bench, stooped to pick up his pencil case as it spilled out from his bag, apologized to the poor first year he collided into, and scurried towards Hyunjin. “I’ll walk you to class!”</p><p> </p><p>“So... Seungmin?” Jisung felt like a groundhog poking his head out of its hole as he looked up at Hyunjin. Sometimes, thanks to their height difference, he felt like a child when he walked next to Hyunjin, even though he knew in his heart of hearts that Hyunjin was probably even more immature than he was.</p><p>“What about him?” Hyunjin looked defensive.</p><p>“Well, you’re gonna keep hanging out with him, right?” Jisung said. He knew he was going somewhere with this but he wasn’t sure where... or how, for that matter.</p><p>“Yeah..?” Hyunjin said. "Is there a problem?"</p><p>"No, no! Of course not!" Jisung rushed to clarify. "Seungmin seems cool."</p><p>"Oh." Hyunjin blinked. “Do you wanna like, be invited?” He was genuinely offering. Jisung had seen him half-ass an invitation enough times to know when he wasn’t. Hyunjin’s sincerity coaxed a smile onto his face.</p><p>Jisung shrugged. “That would be cool some time, but it’s also cool if, you know, you hang out with him by yourself.” He stared at the linoleum floor underfoot. Ah yes, this is where he was heading. Why was telling his friend that he supported him (being an ally, a voice supplied in Jisung’s head) so awkward?</p><p>Hyunjin didn’t respond, just kept walking towards the classroom. Jisung matched his steps, marinating in the silence and kicking himself for making things awkward. Maybe he had misinterpreted things...? Although he was almost certain he hadn’t...</p><p>Hyunjin stopped walking. Jisung stopped a half second later and looked up to realize they were at Hyunjin’s classroom. He hazarded a look at Hyunjin’s face.</p><p>“Thanks, Jisung.” Hyunjin said. He looked remarkably... relaxed. Jisung hadn’t even realized Hyunjin had been tense since that comment at lunch. He didn’t hear thank you from Hyunjin often.</p><p>“Of course,” Jisung said, feeling his own shoulders relax too. “I’m here for you, man.” He smiled and Hyunjin smiled back.</p><p>“So, PC Bang after classes today?” Hyunjin asked.</p><p>“Yeah, I think the other guys are meeting at the North gates.” Jisung returned.</p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>Jisung nodded and gave a little salute. “Seeya then.”</p><p>“Cool.” Hyunjin waved Jisung off and Jisung headed to his homeroom, just like usual.</p><p>Maybe a little change wasn’t such a big deal after all.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Once again, at Hyunjin’s request, Jisung found himself traipsing out to a new place to eat. Apparently expressing his approval to Hyunjin was enough to get him invited to join Hyunjin and Seungmin for lunch with Hyunjin’s older brother, Minho. Hyunjin didn’t really talk about his brothers unless he was complaining about them. The last Jisung had heard about Minho was Hyunjin whining about their parents taking out their disappointment over Minho refusing to attend university on Hyunjin himself. That had been a couple years ago, so it was a bit of a surprise to Jisung to learn that Hyunjin’s older brother was now a published author. Seungmin had enjoyed Minho’s book and wanted to meet him. Jisung had a strong feeling that he was supposed to act as social lubricant so it didn’t feel like Hyunjin was introducing his boyfriend to his hyung... though Jisung could tell that Hyunjin and Seungmin were still in the nebulous ‘some’ phase.</p><p>The cafe was Hyunjin’s older brother’s choice this time, and from the moment Jisung walked in, he rather liked it. The floor to ceiling glass storefront lit the place with natural light which fell on properly scuffed hardwood floors. A couple houseplants dotted the interior, each surrounded by a sparse halo of brown, fallen leaves. An old singer crooned softly in English from a radio set behind the counter, the robin’s egg blue paint chipped in places. It smelled like bread.</p><p>It wasn’t very big so Jisung spotted the three of them immediately. He was the last to arrive.</p><p>“Jisung! Finally!” Hyunjin said as Jisung slid into the only empty seat. Jisung felt a bit of deja vu.</p><p>“Sorry!” Jisung said quickly. With the eyes of Seungmin and the young man sat across from him, who must be Minho, on him as well, Jisung didn’t feel like he had the space to give Hyunjin any shit. An earnest apology it was.</p><p>There was a pregnant pause in which Jisung took in the seating situation. Hyunjin and Minho sat next to each other on one side of the table. Across from Hyunjin was Seungmin. The empty seat that Jisung had filled was across from Minho. It was a bit awkward, kind of like the feeling of sitting across from a blind date for the first time, and it especially didn’t help that Jisung <em> knew </em> Hyunjin liked Seungmin. To be fair though, it’s not like either Jisung or Seungmin could sit next to Minho. But Hyunjin just had to be across from Seungmin. Which left Jisung staring into the impassive face of his older brother.</p><p>“Well,” Hyunjin said, “Introductions again, I guess. Jisung, this is my older brother Minho, Minho, this is Jisung.”</p><p>Jisung gave a closed mouthed smile to the man in question. “Nice to meet you, Minho-ssi.” Technically, it was far from the first time they’d met. Jisung used to go over to Hyunjin’s house to play pretty frequently when they were in elementary school, and he’d been nebulously aware of an older brother around the house at that time. He’d never really committed the face to memory however, and looking at Minho today was like laying eyes on a stranger.</p><p>The first feature Jisung noticed was <em> big </em> eyes, almost comically big for his face if not for the uninterested stare that left no room for laughter. They were intense even in their boredom; looking from Minho to Hyunjin and back to Minho again, sharp eyes ran in the family. His mouth was ludicrously small in comparison, downturned in a detached pout. The planes of his face were smooth but defined. Light caught on the ridge running from the high point of his cheek bone to the corners of his mouth and his jaw carved the division between face and neck in a masculine way that made it clear the person Jisung was looking at was not a boy, but a man. Jisung and Hyunjin’s friend group had pretty much come to the consensus that Hyunjin was the best looking amongst them, but Jisung instantly realized that Minho was even better looking than Hyunjin.</p><p>Minho blinked and Jisung seemed to process the action agonizingly slowly. Then he said, “Hyung is fine,” and offered a small smile in return. Jisung realized that only the corners of his mouth lifted when he smiled, almost like a cat.</p><p>“And this is my friend Seungmin,” Hyunjin swept the conversation along, “Well, you already met a couple minutes ago but, yeah, Seungmin, Minho, Minho, Seungmin.” Hyunjin gestured between the two of them.</p><p>Minho’s eyes flitted to Seungmin and his attention towards Jisung evaporated. Jisung couldn’t help but snicker at Hyunjin’s obvious struggles acting normal about Seungmin.</p><p>“Hyunjin told me you read my book,” Minho said.</p><p>Seungmin straightened in his seat, hands folded in his lap. Jisung wasn’t sure if he wanted to present himself well to Hyunjin’s older brother or if he just always sat that way. “I loved your book, Minho...?”</p><p>“Hyung,” Minho supplied.</p><p>“Minho hyung,” Seungmin tested out.</p><p>“You’re my brother’s friends, no reason to be formal,” Minho said, folding his arms together and leaning back in his chair. “Anyways, I was wondering who it was that Hyunjin wanted to give a copy of my book to.”</p><p>A nervous laugh bubbled out of Hyunjin. Seungmin giggled too. “Well, it was me.” He clapped his hands together in front of his chest. Another pause.</p><p>Well, Jisung supposed that this was what he was here for. He wasn’t the most outgoing person, but he also couldn’t stand awkwardness, so he leaned towards the center of the table and asked, “Minho... -hyung, what’s your book about? Hyunjin can’t tell me anything because he hasn’t read it, and Seungmin sounds too smart every time he talks about it.”</p><p>In reality, this was only his second time talking to Seungmin ever, other than some nods in the halls after Hyunjin introduced them, but it seemed to be the right thing to say because Minho got a glint in his eye and began, “Well, I’ll try to explain, but it’s best if you just read the book yourself..”</p><p>Minho launched into a small synopsis and the three high schoolers at the table became his audience. Seungmin held rapt attention, Hyunjin visibly struggled to stay focused, and Jisung, to his surprise, became quite invested in listening. Well, more accurately, he became mildly engrossed in how Minho looked as he explained his novel. There was a magnetic intensity in his expression that conveyed without words just how passionate he was about his ideas. It was a sharp jump from the disinterest just a few moments earlier  when he met Jisung and Seungmin.</p><p>He barely noticed that Seungmin and Minho had launched into a full-blown discussion until they were interrupted by their server. Minho ordered an iced americano and he thanked the server before taking a violent drink from the straw. When he put the cup down, half the coffee was gone.</p><p>“Caffeine addict,” Hyunjin said snidely from his brother’s side.</p><p>“If you’d ever had to work hard at something, you would understand,” Minho grouched.</p><p>Jisung stared at his bubble tea, suddenly feeling guilty.</p><p>Minho continued, “I bet Seungmin here drinks plenty of coffee.”</p><p>Seungmin had ordered green tea. “I get my caffeine fix from tea,” he laughed nervously.</p><p>Minho nodded approvingly. He seemed to really be taking a liking to Seungmin, if their discussion of his book was any indication. Once again, Jisung was really happy for Hyunjin. And he couldn’t help but feel like at least this time, he’d helped his friend out a little.</p><p>Minho was apparently so appreciative of Seungmin’s interest in his work that he offered to have the boys over at this apartment to show Seungmin rough drafts for the novel. “Some of the gems my shit editor wouldn’t let me publish.” Seungmin enthusiastically agreed to the invitation.</p><p>“I’ll pay for everyone,” Minho said, rising to his feet. “Except you, brat, don’t think you can get away with leeching this time.”</p><p>Hyunjin soured. “As if you can even cover everything with that salary of yours, hyung. Mom and Dad are always calling you broke.”</p><p>“At least I don’t ask them for money to buy new shoes and then get fooled buying fake brands at real prices.” Minho balled up a napkin and chucked it at Hyunjin before turning heel and walking pompously towards the counter. Jisung couldn’t help but giggle.</p><p>“That was Mom who bought them, not me!” Hyunjin retorted towards Minho’s back. He turned towards Seungmin and Jisung with a grin. “That hyung, I swear.”</p><p>“Don’t you have to go pay..?” Seungmin asked.</p><p>Hyunjin laughed. “Nah, he’ll pay for me, even if he throws a hissy fit over it.”</p><p>“He seems cool,” Seungmin said, “Fascinating ideas.”</p><p>“Yeah, he seems cool.” Jisung agreed.</p><p> </p><p>They set off towards Minho’s apartment and Jisung found himself hanging at the back, a little hesitant about going over to a stranger’s place, even if that stranger was Hyunjin’s brother.</p><p>“You good with coming?” Hyunjin said quietly to Jisung. “It’s all cool if you tap out now.”</p><p>“S’ fine,” Jisung said before he could even consider it. “Not like I have anything better to do.”</p><p>Hyunjin gave him a grateful smile.</p><p>On the way, Seungmin mostly stuck by Minho’s side, firing off eager questions. Hyunjin sulked behind them, clearly put out at Seungmin’s attention being directed towards someone else.</p><p>“Dude, you’re turning green,” Jisung commented.</p><p>“Aw, fuck off,” Hyunjin grumbled, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.</p><p>Jisung couldn’t help but guffaw at Hyunjin’s behavior. It was surprisingly nice to see cracks in Hyunjin’s shiny and slick persona, kind of like having the old Hyunjin from middle school back, before they’d met all of the guys in high school. Jisung hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed it.</p><p>They got closer to Minho’s building and the city shifted around them from glossy storefronts to narrow streets and cream colored housing units that, decades ago, had been white. Minho kinda lived near Jisung’s neighborhood, Jisung realized, but he held his tongue.</p><p>It took Minho three tries to scan his keycard, but he eventually lead the boys into the lobby, cursing under his breath about the old building. They rocked up an elevator to Minho’s floor and came out into a hallway smelling of old paint and faint traces of sweat. Minho’s door was at the end of the first hallway, and he wrestled with the key before opening his door and gesturing for the three boys to come in. Jisung was the last to go through the doorway and he paused and chanced a glance at Minho.</p><p>“I don’t bite,” Minho joked, opening his palm towards the doorway.</p><p>Jisung didn’t know what to say to that, so he just offered a smile and crossed over the threshold.</p><p> </p><p>Inside, Hyunjin was already slouched over the only armchair while Seungmin stood at his side, unsure. “Your place is so small hyung, there’s no place to sit!” Hyunjin complained loudly.</p><p>Minho groaned, throwing his coat towards the armchair and hitting Hyunjin in the process. Hyunjin squawked. Jisung realized that there was a pile of outerwear already slung over the back of the armchair. He looked around and sure enough, no coat rack to be seen.</p><p>Hyunjin was right, Minho’s apartment was tiny. It was technically a one room unit, but a screen divided the living room space from what Jisung assumed was a bed in the back. Other than the armchair, there was a low to the ground table in the center of the space, under which was a simple dark colored carpet. Opposite was the kitchenette. The majority of the little space available was taken up by shelves, lining two walls of the apartment and packed to the brim with books, loose papers and trinkets, as well as common household objects. Minho pulled a file box out one of the shelves and dropped it unceremoniously beside the table. The box hit the ground with a heavy sounding thud and sigh of dust.</p><p>Minho patted the ground next to him at the table. “Come on, sit down. Yes, you too Hyunjin. Everyone sits on the ground.”</p><p>As everyone including the reluctant Hyunjin got seated, Minho pulled out a stack of thick packets and spread them out over the table. “Aha!” He snatched one up after surveying the spread and passed it to Seungmin. “This was the original idea for that conflict scene that you asked me about earlier... If you just flip to page 38, yes, they’re numbered on the bottom right..”</p><p>“If I knew they would hit it off so well, I would have never given Seungmin the book in the first place.” Hyunjin grumbled.</p><p>“Oh, you gave it to Seungmin? Like a gift?” Jisung wiggled his eyebrows.</p><p>“Shut up... how else would he have ended up reading it? I’ve <em> never </em> seen Minho act so nice, usually he’s holding me in a headlock and calling me a brat.”</p><p>“Have you ever considered that might be your fault?” Jisung asked. “What if it’s just a smart people thing, y’know? I bet I’d get on great with Minho too, similar IQ and all.”</p><p>“You did not just call my brother smart and me stupid in the same sentence,” Hyunjin hissed. He stood up and stomped over to where Minho and Seungmin were sat and crashed down in between the two. “Scoot over hyung! I can’t see, I gotta read too!”</p><p>Jisung snorted into his hand at Hyunjin’s childish grab for attention. He picked up a packet from the table himself. It wouldn’t hurt to find out what it was that the Rank #1 student at their school rated so highly.</p><p>Jisung had no idea what he was expecting going into reading, but it was anything but this. The writing was mesmerizing, sophisticated, adult. It made Jisung feel young and naive, clinging on to each word on the page with a laser focus he didn’t know existed in him for written words. Time at Minho’s apartment passed quickly after Jisung started reading, and quietly except for Hyunjin’s occasional attempts to insert himself in Seungmin and Minho’s conversation. Jisung found himself alternating between looking at the manuscript and looking at Minho, fascinated once again by this man who managed to put so much intensity into his creations. When Minho cast a stray glance in Jisung’s direction and they locked eyes, Jisung suddenly felt very shy.</p><p>“Is it okay that I read this?” Jisung held up the draft, using it to hide half of his face.</p><p>“Of course,” Minho smiled that cat-like smile and nodded. “I hope you like it.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>updating in two days? this is basically unheard of. unfortunately not every update will come this quickly, although i WISH i could write that fast.</p><p>minho's first appearance! hoho i wonder how things will develop from here!</p><p>also i've got <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is so embarrassing I just realized that because I was confused about the way the Korean school year works, I got the ages of Jisung, Hyunjin, etc wrong in my first note LMAO. They're now in their final year of highschool, which means they're 18 in international age and 19 in Korean age. Sorry for the confusion!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hyunjin couldn’t hang out with the guys today, again.</p><p>With Hyunjin out, the whole operation had kind of dissolved, Sunwoo muttering something about hanging out with some seniors and Changbin admitting that he had hagwon too, and it wouldn’t hurt to attend. It was happening more and more frequently. Suddenly Hyunjin had chores to do at home, or had to watch his younger brother, or really needed to go to hagwon today, ‘otherwise my mom will throttle me’. Consequently, they’d been hanging out after school less and less because Hyunjin wasn't available. The other guys chalked it up to Hyunjin’s parents cracking down on him mercilessly now that CSATs were technically less than a year away, but Jisung knew the actual reason: Hyunjin was with Seungmin. He tried his best not to resent his friend for ditching. Hyunjin didn't know the reason Jisung preferred to head home as late as possible. Still, Jisung felt a bitter pit in his stomach every time he watched the rest of his friends disperse from the school gates, scattering in all different directions like the starburst of an supernova while Jisung remained in the epicenter of the blast, a neutron star frozen, dense, folding in on itself over and over again.</p><p>Jisung still didn’t know what to feel about Hyunjin and Seungmin. It wasn’t the fact that Seungmin was a guy. Sure, Jisung had been surprised about it. He’d never thought of Hyunjin- or any of their other friends- as anything other than straight. Hyunjin raged against his teammates in League chat, sat around the tv chanting Heungmin Son’s name when he won the Asian Cup, spluttered after trying his first cigarette during their first year in high school when Sunwoo snuck a pack to school, even had many (short-lived) relationships with girls, just like any regular teenage guy. The newest addition to that list was crushing on a boy, but it didn’t change that Hyunjin was still a regular teenage guy. Moreover, he was Jisung’s friend. So it was a surprise to Jisung, but he didn’t have a problem with it.</p><p>What he’d spent more time turning over in his head were the other ways that Seungmin was different. Hyunjin had never introduced his past interests to his friends, much less his brother. And he’d never given any of them such significant gifts. Seungmin wasn’t just a crush to Hyunjin, he was a friend as well. And in that way, despite all his hot-headed immaturity and childish jealousy, it seemed to Jisung like Hyunjin was growing up. Jisung feared that somehow he might be left behind. Not just by Hyunjin, but by his friends, his peers, the world as a whole. A neutron star, massive, dormant, lonely, invisible to the naked eye.</p><p>Without thinking, his feet had already taken him from the school gates to the bus stop. He boarded the bus, chose a window seat in the back, and watched the outside world gush past like a river as he hugged his backpack to his chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jisung was actually fond of his neighborhood. He and his parents didn’t live in the nicest part of town. Their unit itself was fairly nice looking, but the very next block over buildings began to look less and less well-off. When he didn’t have to hide his living circumstances from his friends who were concerned with things like wealth and appearance, he felt at home in the rundown yet familiar streets.</p><p>After dismounting the bus, Jisung didn’t head home. Instead he allowed himself to wander. The streets were narrow and not many cars drove them but there was still the faint ambient noise of inhabitation: murmurs through apartment walls, household appliances chugging through their daily tasks, music humming from radios. The roads and buildings were muted in color, as if the intensity had been sucked out of them. The few people walking the streets paid him no mind. In these streets, Jisung could be alone but not lonely.</p><p>Eventually he came to a park, at least fifteen years old, that families in the neighborhood still took their kids to play at. It was empty right now, swings swaying gently in the breeze. Their plastic seats were sun-bleached and cracked, and chains brownish in the way that would make your hands smell like rust after you were done swinging. Jisung took a seat on one of them, pulling out his phone and the tangle of earbuds in his pocket.</p><p>He popped his earbuds in, opened his phone to the notes app and started to hum. Occasionally he would write down lyrics or record little melodies that came to him when he was thinking. He wasn’t even sure if they were lyrics or just thoughts or poems, but sometimes when his head got to be too full he found it helped to let a little bit of it out, kind of like a virtual diary of sorts. His phone was filled with the stuff.</p><p>Jisung pushed himself slowly back and forth with his feet as he worked. He remembered back to the time when he couldn’t even get on the swing without the help of his mom or dad lifting him up and onto the seat. Now the balls of his feet were able to reach the ground, but not his entire flat foot. He was still short after all. He’d grown up, but not by that much. Things had been better at home back then: his parents still spent time together and they would take him to this park and play. His dad would bring his guitar out and strum while his mom chased him down slides and all over the play structure.</p><p>There had been a family of crows living in the park back then. The nest was in the tree furthest from the street, about a dozen meters up but visible from the ground. Jisung remembered learning from a nature program that birds used whatever objects were available to build their nests, and it wasn't uncommon that nests built in urban areas were made with human objects. Thrilled at the idea of helping the crows build their nest, Jisung gathered bits and bobs of string, felt, even colored pencils and placed them around the park for the crows to use. He picked them in all colors of the rainbow so their 'house' could be pretty and colorful, the same way his house was at the time. It worked, if he looked up he would still see the nest today, though the inhabitants had long moved on. Between the brownish twigs were bit and bobs of color, Jisung's contribution to the home. It was a pretty creation, even to his eyes now.</p><p>Once his parents found out what he was doing, they made him stop and gave him a firm scolding. Crows were a bad omen, they said. Everywhere they go, they bring bad luck. As an elementary kid, Jisung hadn't understood what they meant, what bad luck would do. But as he grew older and his family changed, he understood. They used to be a happy family, now the three of them barely even spent time in the same room together. A bitterness welled up in Jisung’s throat and he stood from the swing abruptly. The rusty chains jangled in protest. It was probably best if he left this place before his train of thought soured even further. He walked away from the bad omen of his own creation and returned to the streets.</p><p>The sun was sinking lower on the horizon. It smelled faintly of spring rain, though the sky was still clear. It was probably time to grab dinner. Jisung set off for the convenience store leisurely, trying to fill his head with pleasant thoughts.</p><p>He was halfway through a scenario in his mind where he went on Law of the Jungle as one of the participants when he reached the convenience store. He pushed into the store, imagining how he would carve his own spear from a stick to catch fish, filtering out the bell signaling his arrival.</p><p>“Welcome,” the clerk recited boredly.</p><p>Jisung glanced at the clerk to give a quick nod of recognition and stopped in his tracks. Big eyes blinked back at him.</p><p>“Oh. Jisung, right?” Standing behind the counter was Minho, eyebrows raised slightly, bright blue employee vest sitting on his shoulders.</p><p>“Minho-ssi- I mean hyung,” Jisung said, “You work here?”</p><p>“I guess I do.” Minho replied. “You live around here?”</p><p>“Yeah, pretty close. This is my usual convenience store, I can’t believe I never noticed you before.”</p><p>Minho shrugged. “Usually you don’t really notice people until they’re brought to your attention.” Jisung didn’t mention that he definitely would have noticed a face like Minho’s. “Chance encounters between strangers who aren’t really strangers, they just don’t know it yet- it’s one of the most popular literary premises there is.”</p><p>“Uh, about that, if you’re an author, why do you work here?” Jisung clapped a hand over his mouth and turned bright red the minute he realized what he’d said. “Sorry! I didn’t mean-”</p><p>Minho just laughed, which sounded like two punctuated <em> ha </em> ’s followed by a rapid fire string of <em> hehehe </em>’s. His eyes crinkled up and the apples of his cheeks rounded. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like Minho took offense to his question. Jisung almost felt like laughing at his laugh. </p><p>When he was done, Minho composed himself and said, “You’re funny, you know that? I’ve only just published my first book! How do you think I paid rent before that? Every writer has to pay his dues, so-” He gestured to the interior of the crappy little store as if to say ‘this is mine’.</p><p>“That makes sense,” Jisung said, cracking a smile. “Well, I’m gonna just-” he nodded towards the packaged meal section. He didn’t trust his brain to mouth filter to continue the conversation.</p><p>“Be my guest,” Minho said, and Jisung scampered towards the fridges.</p><p>Seriously, Jisung thought as he scanned the shelves, what were the chances? Although he recalled that Minho did live pretty close to his apartment. He felt self-conscious despite himself, imagining Minho judging him from behind the counter. It was so cool of Minho that he didn’t seem to be ashamed of working at a convenience store while his writing career took off. Anyways, he couldn’t wait to tell Hyunjin about this, what a crazy coincidence. Should he get kimbap again or risk something yummier? Anything that required a microwave, aka a trip to the kitchen, was definitely out. That left him with sandwiches, burgers, the like. There were also the pre-made lunch boxes, but he’d have a hard time sneaking that in under his jacket...</p><p>“Whatcha thinking of getting?” Jisung jumped. Minho had transported next to him in front of the fridges.</p><p>“A sandwich, maybe.” Jisung squeaked.</p><p>Minho’s nose crinkled up. “Don’t get a sandwich, I’ve tried them all and they’re all gross.”</p><p>“Is there anything you’d recommend?” Jisung eyed Minho out of the corner of his sight. Minho wasn’t actually as tall as he’d thought. Only an inch or two over Jisung? Much shorter than Hyunjin, at least.</p><p>"Have you tried making rabokki with spaghetti ramen? Fucking delicious.”</p><p>“Yeah! -Oh... but I can’t microwave the ramen and tteokbokki.”</p><p>Minho looked at him strangely. “Why’s that?”</p><p>Well, shit. Jisung just stared at the fridges and said nothing. He didn’t know what he would say.</p><p>Minho looked at him for a bit longer, Jisung could feel it by the prickly sensation on the left side of his face and his neck, and then rolled his eyes and said “Come on, I can use the one in the backroom for you.”</p><p>“..Is that okay?”</p><p>“Does it look like I get paid to give a fuck? Anyways, I was about to make dinner for myself. It’s your choice if you want rapokki, or you can go with a cold meal too, that’s fine with me.” Minho looked at Jisung expectantly.</p><p>Damn, he’d really been hoping not to eat kimbap again. This was his chance! Was he imposing on Minho? Would it be weird? Jisung was too nervous to even check Minho’s expression. Stop overthinking! Jisung shot his hands forward before he could think twice and grabbed a cup of instant tteokbokki and spaghetti ramen. Forcing himself to look at Minho, he held the food towards him and said, “That would be great, thank you so much.”</p><p>Minho accepted the packages. Jisung let the door of the fridge swing shut.</p><p>“Hold on,” Minho said. His hand darted out and caught the door.</p><p>Jisung froze. Minho was gonna take it back now, right? “Yeah?”</p><p>“Do you want sausage and cheese with it too?”</p><p>Jisung couldn’t help it, his eyes lit up.</p><p>Minho grinned. “Yeah, you do. Alright, give it here.”</p><p>Minho disappeared into the backroom to microwave the instant meals while Jisung waited awkwardly in front of the cashier’s counter. Outside the sky was darkening little by little as clouds rolled in. He was fairly sure now that Minho wasn’t going to suddenly turn on him and kick him out, but it was still supremely nerve-wracking being one-on-one with Hyunjin’s strangely intimidating brother.</p><p>An indeterminable amount of time later (Jisung zoned-out again) the door to the backroom pried open and Minho peeked his head through the crack. “Could you give me a hand?”</p><p>“Oh! Of course!” Jisung hurried to open the door all the way, where Minho had previously been holding it with his back because he had food in both hands.</p><p>“Thanks.” Minho set the instant containers on the counter and opened the door to the inside of the booth. “C’mon.”</p><p>Jisung gingerly slinked inside and then exclaimed, “Wow! It looks delicious!”</p><p>Minho had gone super generously with the cheese, which gushed in oozes of ivory into every nook and cranny of the noodles. Pieces of sausage stuck out from the cheese like snow-capped boulders of salty goodness. And there was always something alluring about shining, velvety, fluorescently red instant ddeok and ramen that no amount of msg could reverse. Jisung knew it was bad for him but it was <em> so, so </em> good.</p><p>“I know, I know, I’m a veritable Gordon Ramsey with a microwave.” Minho said, looking proud of himself.</p><p>Jisung nodded, finding Minho funny but feeling too self-conscious to laugh.</p><p>“Well don’t just stand there.” Minho handed him a pair of chopsticks. “Dig in.”</p><p>Jisung gave Minho a thankful smile before concentrating hard on the chopsticks as he pulled them apart- yes! They split evenly! He rubbed them together between the palms of his hands and inspected them for any splinters. Satisfied, Jisung plunged them into the gooey hot lava of carbs and stuffed a massive, mozzarella cocooned bite into his mouth.</p><p>“Mmfgh!” Jisung said around the mouthful. “Deliiii-shush.”</p><p>Minho nodded, not speaking but brows clearly folded in appreciation as well. After swallowing and wiping his mouth, he gestured at Jisung, napkin still in hand. “At least you eat like Hyunjin. You’re so shy I was starting to wonder why you two were friends.”</p><p>Jisung felt his face go up in flames, suddenly hyper-aware of the fine string of cheese stretched between his mouth and his bowl. “Sorry!” He blurted, wiping his mouth in a hurry.</p><p>“No, don't apologize! Hyunjin and Jeongin are much worse. Just wondering why you’re so quiet, that’s all.”</p><p>“It’s just that I’m shy around strangers,” Jisung mumbled. “Sorry,” he added again.</p><p>“Hey, I’m not a stranger.” Minho feigned offense. “You can loosen up, you know? I’m just Hyunjin’s brother.”</p><p>Jisung offered a wobbly smile. “Um, I’ll try.”</p><p>“That’s better. Don’t be a stranger. Look, I have to stock shelves before my shift ends, otherwise the manager will be on my ass. Make sure to finish your bowl, otherwise I’ll think you think my cooking is bad and I’ll get offended.” Minho went into the backroom again and left Jisung alone behind the counter.</p><p>Jisung dug into his food obediently. This Minho was very different from the one who discussed the fine points of writing with Seungmin a week ago. He could see a little bit how he and Hyunjin were related now.</p><p>Minho burst through the door to the backroom with a bang. His arms were piled high with products. No sooner was he through the doorway that the boxes on the top of the stack tumbled off and hit the floor, sliding in all directions. “Shit!”</p><p>“Hyung, I’ll help you!” Jisung struggled with the mechanism on the counter booth door for a few moments. Finally he got out and helped Minho pick up the fallen merchandise.</p><p>Minho set the stack of packages on the floor with a huff. “Thanks. God, this job is a pain in the ass.”</p><p>“I can help!” Jisung offered. </p><p>Minho narrowed his eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll manage on my own. Did you finish your bowl?”</p><p>“Yep!” Jisung chirped, feeling a rush of endorphins and confidence. “I’ll help you to thank you for your totally delicious cooking! That I completely finished!”</p><p>“Alright, fine, you win.” Minho scoffed but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Never should have said that, geez,” he muttered to himself as he turned towards the shelves.</p><p>Jisung ended up carrying the merchandise so that Minho could quickly grab them and put them on the shelves. He shadowed Minho quietly, still a bit too shy to make conversation but uncannily content to simply assist him and stay in the convenience store for a while longer.</p><p>Before Jisung was aware of it, the job was done.</p><p>“Thanks,” Minho repeated, behind the counter once more with Jisung on the opposite side. “Usually takes me much longer.” Jisung couldn’t help feeling disappointed that it was already over. It was only because he knew he had to go home now.</p><p>“It’s no problem, hyung.”</p><p>Minho rang Jisung up for the meal and Jisung paid, thanking him once again.</p><p>“You should go home now,” Minho said. He cast his gaze outside. “It’s already dark and- is it raining?”</p><p>The light had changed since Jisung came into the convenience store. Harsh fluorescent panels illuminated things from overhead. Without natural light from outside to fill in the gaps, Minho’s face was made even more dramatic. His lashes caught the light and poured long, dark, spidery shadows into the pools of his eyes and down his cheeks. His nose was even sharper, his brow even stronger, the dip of his upper lip even further pronounced- “Sorry what?” Jisung gave himself a good shake of the head as he realized Minho was talking to him.</p><p>“It’s raining.” Minho repeated, pointing outside to emphasize the fact.</p><p>“Oh!” Jisung hadn’t noticed. “It is.” It was hard to see peering into the darkness from the brightly lit convenience store, but the sound of a downpour was unmistakable. </p><p>“Do you have an umbrella?” Minho asked.</p><p>Jisung groaned. “No. But I should be alright if I make a run for it. I don’t live very far.”</p><p>Minho frowned. “One second-” He went into the shelves of the store and came back with a bright yellow umbrella. “Here. It’s on me.”</p><p>“What!? No way, I can just run.”</p><p>Minho squinted. “If you end up getting sick and then pass it to Hyunjin and he passes it to me, I won’t be happy.”</p><p><em> Fat chance of that actually happening, </em> Jisung wanted to say, but Minho shoved the umbrella into his chest and all he really said was “Oof.”</p><p>“I’ll pay you back next time!” Jisung insisted.</p><p>“No need for that,” Minho grinned. He seemed to be enjoying this. “Thanks for helping me with the shelves today.”</p><p>“I’ll return it then!” Jisung panicked.</p><p>“No can do! If you really want to repay me you can go and buy my book.” Minho sang. “I’ll be swimming in royalties soon anyways~!”</p><p>The corners of Jisung’s mouth stayed downturned. </p><p>Minho laughed. “Don’t make me cart you out of here.” He jabbed a sharp thumb towards the glass door, but his smile was friendly. “Go home safe, kid.”</p><p>Jisung smiled despite himself, a closed mouth one that made his cheeks round out. “Okay. Thanks Minho hyung.”</p><p>He stepped out into the rain, Minho giving him a wave from inside the store. Jisung waved back but Minho didn’t notice, attention already turned back to the counter.</p><p>It was pouring. Small, ferocious gushes of rainwater carrying sticks and leaves and other debris raced down gutters. Drops pelting the pavement obscured the sound of Jisung’s footsteps. If Jisung had really tried to run home, he would have returned sopping wet and gotten the yelling of a lifetime.</p><p>As he walked through his neighborhood, plunged into shadow except for the rhythmic illumination of street lamps, Jisung twirled the umbrella over his head. It repelled the falling raindrops like bullets from Superman’s chest. Every time he passed under a lamp, the bright yellow umbrella would catch the light like a giant magnifying glass and bath Jisung in golden rays. If he forgot the world around him and focused just on the bubble underneath his umbrella, Jisung could pretend it was him that was glowing. In the dull, nondescript vacuum of his neighborhood, Jisung was the singular source of brightness, shining on his way home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rapokki is ramen + tteokbokki. They actually ate the Mark meal, which was famously named after Mark from Got7. A little JYP interaction LOL<br/>This chapter took so long to write it was tough TT_TT fun fact that Minho recently made ramen for Jisung in real life too, they mentioned on a vlive a couple days ago hehe</p><p>As always, comments and kudos are appreciated~ Let me know what you think!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky was nearly cloudless, air fresh and sunlight warm but not hot as it poured in rays onto the basketball court. Squeaking sneakers and the heavy bounce of the ball formed a percussion backtrack for the three boys’ shouts and exclamations. For once, all of Jisung's homework for the weekend was already finished. All in all, an idyllic Sunday afternoon. </p><p>"Seungmin, pass, pass!" Jisung shouted.</p><p>Across the court, Seungmin was almost hidden from sight by Hyunjin's defensive stance. His arms and legs were star-fished out to block off any and all courses of action.</p><p>“Hyunjin, move!”</p><p>Hyunjin had invited Jisung to play basketball with him and Seungmin, ‘so that Seungmin wouldn’t be the only bad player’. </p><p>"Awfully sweet of you," Jisung had deadpanned. </p><p>"I'm just being a good friend!" Hyunjin had protested.</p><p>Jisung had arched his eyebrow and mouthed <em> Friend? </em>and Hyunjin had flipped him the bird while Seungmin wasn't looking. </p><p>Presently though, the tag team of Jisung and Seungmin was getting pretty badly thrashed by one man wonder basketball extraordinaire Hwang Hyunjin. </p><p>“Get out of his face Hyunjin!”</p><p>“Yeah get out of my face!” Seungmin echoed.</p><p>“No can do!” Hyunjin cried, obviously enjoying himself. If he stepped any closer to Seungmin they would be kissing. Maybe that was his intention, Jisung thought with dread. He prepared to close his eyes in case Hyunjin really was set on going through with The Worst First Kiss Scenario in History.</p><p>No, instead Hyunjin barreled into Seungmin’s mid-section, wrapping his arms around Seungmin’s waifish stomach and picking him clean up off the ground.</p><p>“HYUNJIN!” Seungmin screeched, flailing and waving the ball over his head like an inflatable dancing tube man. Hyunjin cackled and Jisung fought down laughter of his own. He’d never heard Seungmin scream before but he sure did have some impressive acoustics. “This <em> definitely </em> constitutes a foul!”</p><p>“Pass it Seungmin!” Jisung urged again, running to stand under the hoop now that Hyunjin’s annoyingly large wingspan was otherwise occupied.</p><p>Seungmin heaved the ball over Hyunjin’s head with all his might- which meant that it dribbled from his hands like a weak bout of spit-up from an upset baby, bouncing tepidly towards Jisung’s feet.</p><p>Jisung scooped the ball up and rolled his eyeballs into the back of his head as he made eye-contact with Hyunjin, who was still ragdolling Seungmin to and fro at the 3-point line. He wasn’t even trying to defend.</p><p><em> Diabetes, </em> Jisung mouthed.</p><p><em> Shove it up your ass </em>, Hyunjin mouthed back.</p><p>“Put me DOWN!” Seungmin wailed.</p><p>Jisung turned and made a lay-up into the basket. “And Team JiSeung scores!” He cheered, gathering the ball and chucking in the direction of Hyunjin’s back. He spread his arms out like an airplane and ran figure-eights around the court in mock celebration.</p><p>“Ow!” A string of curses came from Hyunjin when Jisung’s throw found its mark. “What the hell was that for!?”</p><p>“For holding a player hostage!” Seungmin retorted. In reaction to Hyunjin getting hit: “And the crowd goes wild!”</p><p>“Whose team are you on anyways,” Hyunjin grumbled, releasing Seungmin from his grasp at last.</p><p>“Jisung’s,” Seungmin replied smartly, a mild smile across his face.</p><p>Hyunjin huffed. “My ball now.” He made a ‘come at me’ kind of gesture with his hand. “Alright munchkins, I’m about to break your legs.”</p><p>“I’m not even that short,” Seungmin protested weakly.</p><p>They reset the court and Hyunjin easily dribbled around Jisung and Seungmin. He put the ball between Jisung’s legs (of course, he had to embarrass Jisung to show off for Seungmin), and floated a shot from outside the key. <em> Swoosh </em>.</p><p>“All net baby, all net!” Hyunjin swaggered, retrieving the ball while Jisung and Seungmin picked themselves up off the ground.</p><p>Jisung admitted that Hyunjin cut a sporty figure on the basketball court. He was decked out in athletic clothing and had on Jordans- Jisung remembered the two of them had hawked the pair for months waiting for the price to drop. It never did, and Jisung eventually gave up on getting them but Hyunjin went ahead and bought them at the exorbitant price the seller was asking. An investment apparently worth it since he was now wearing them to impress his crush.</p><p>Hyunjin gave Seungmin a chest pass and the other boy fumbled it, chasing after the ball with a sheepish grin on his face. In contrast, Seungmin wore a pair of those New Balance sneakers that every grandma owned. He apparently didn’t have any athletic shorts so he’d shown up in khakis, leather belt and everything. Still, his cheeks were flushed with his earnest effort at keeping up on the court.</p><p>Hyunjin and Seungmin were grinning at each other like loons. Another time, Jisung might have gotten sulky at being a third wheel, but today he was happy to bear witness to young love. It made him feel optimistic about the chances for true love and affection in this world.</p><p>He trotted over to half-court where Seungmin stood with the ball sandwiched between his hands. “I’ve got a plan.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Seungmin asked. In front of them, Hyunjin cracked his knuckles cockily.</p><p>“I’ll keep him away from you, ok? You’ll have all the time in the world to shoot.”</p><p>Seungmin looked skeptical. “And how do you plan to manage that?”</p><p>Jisung gave an a-ok gesture with his hand. “I got this.” To Hyunjin he called out, “Ready?”</p><p>Hyunjin scoffed. “With your sorry ass, I’m always ready!”</p><p>Seungmin began dribbling forward and Hyunjin stepped to close the distance between the two of them. But before Hyunjin could cut Seungmin off, Jisung barreled into him, pushing into Hyunjin with a staunch shoulder to prevent him from making any forward progress.</p><p>“Hey! Technical foul! I should shoot free throws for this!” Hyunjin snarled.</p><p>“Too bad there’s no ref to call it,” Jisung snickered. He continued to run into Hyunjin, pushing him away from Seungmin while the beanpole dribbled his way slowly inside the 3-point line. “Okay Seungmin, this is your chance!”</p><p>Seungmin sent a wobbly smile Jisung’s way, bringing the ball up into shooting position nervously. He was totally gripping it all wrong, which Jisung had to admit was endearing.</p><p>In Jisung’s distraction, Hyunjin managed to put a spin move on Jisung. Jisung blinked and suddenly all of the strength Jisung was using to hold Hyunjin back was now spent leaning into thin air. He crashed to the ground with an “Oof!”</p><p>“Player down, player down!” Jisung cried dramatically. Fortunately he didn't <em> actually </em> scrape anything on the blacktop. “Time out for injury!”</p><p>Hyunjin paid him absolutely no mind, shrieking with laughter and bee-lining for Seungmin. Seungmin had already rearranged himself into a defensive (read: cowering) position, shoulders hunched and eyes squeezed shut. When Hyunjin reached Seungmin though, he screeched to a halt and came around to his side. He placed his two hands gently on top of Seungmin’s and reconfigured them into proper shooting form.</p><p>“Here.” The dopey smile and redness on Hyunjin’s face said everything. “This is how you shoot the ball properly.”</p><p>“Oh- thanks Hyunjin.” Seungmin replied quietly. His smile was shy but no less genuine. Hyunjin continued to rearrange his limbs and Seungmin took the tutoring just as seriously as he took any sort of learning endeavor.</p><p>Jisung snorted from the ground but smiled as he pulled out his phone to snap some pictures of the budding couple. It was clear as day that they were both completely head over heels.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Later they were sitting on a bench, sipping on yakult that Seungmin brought. Seungmin had a textbook in his lap because 'it was never too early to start studying for CSATS'.</p><p>"You're in good spirits today Jisung." Seungmin commented. "Something good happen recently?"</p><p>As a matter of fact, "Yeah!" Jisung exclaimed. His hand automatically went to the bright yellow umbrella he had brought along- rain wasn't in the forecast today, but just in case. He'd totally forgotten to tell Hyunjin about seeing Minho hyung at the convenience store. He opened his mouth and then stopped. Now that he was in front of Hyunjin and Seungmin he suddenly felt quite embarrassed at the idea of telling them he was so excited over what, a free umbrella? Hyunjin knew quite a bit about ridiculing others for no reason, though Jisung trusted himself enough as a friend to only take the piss on Jisung in a non-malicious way, and Seungmin certainly wasn't the type to pull his chain, but still. He wanted to keep the warm fuzzy residual feeling from the encounter to himself. And he felt a bit awkward bringing up Minho in front of Hyunjin, Jisung now discovered. Jisung had such a good impression of Minho and while Hyunjin obviously didn’t hate his older brother, Jisung knew instinctively that any effusive praise for him would annoy Hyunjin more than excite him. Especially since Hyunjin practically turned into the Grinch when Seungmin and Minho got on so well. And even as he was having all of these thoughts, he was already planning the next time he would go to the convenience store, not-so-coincidentally during Minho’s shift.</p><p>"Earth to Jisung!" Hyunjin snapped his fingers. </p><p>"Uh- what- sorry!"</p><p>"Are you alright? You trailed off and got silent there." Seungmin said.</p><p>"Don't worry," Hyunjin said lazily, stretching his arms above his head. "This nut case gets lost in his head all the time." Instead of bringing his arms down like a normal person, Hyunjin looped them around Jisung and Seungmin's shoulders. Of course he pulled Seungmin closer to himself than he did Jisung. Seungmin obviously wasn't expecting it and crumpled into Hyunjin's side like tissue paper with a yelp. Jisung barely concealed the roll of his eyes. That was the oldest trick in the book.</p><p>"It's true, I guess." He admitted he did tend to spend a lot of time rambling and chasing all sorts of threads in his head.</p><p>"Our nutty little squirrel," Hyunjin declared in a loud and insufferable tone of voice that could only be characterized as affectionate coming from him. </p><p>"Sure, I'm the crazy one here," Jisung said. Meanwhile, he imitated Hyunjin, making a show of yawning and stretching his arms up, bringing one down around Hyunjin's shoulder and letting the other one hover around an invisible person to his left. </p><p>Hyunjin made an 'are you fucking kidding me?' face and poked him surreptitiously behind the back with his middle finger. </p><p>"Anyways, what's got you so happy?" Seungmin asked again from Hyunjin's other side, oblivious. Hyunjin quickly returned his expression to normal before he faced Seungmin again.</p><p>"Oh! Uh-" Jisung could feel color coming to his face for no reason. "I finally found a 4K torrent for Planet Earth!" He lied. </p><p>"Haven't you watched that a thousand times?" Hyunjin drawled. </p><p>"Not in 4K! Think about how hard the cinematographers worked, bringing all that expensive and fragile equipment to the jungle and the Himalayas and the ends of the Earth to film snow leopards in 4k! I owe it to the filmmakers to watch it as they intended!"</p><p>"You owe it to the filmmakers to watch it on a paid streaming service," Seungmin commented drily, in a rare instance of un-sweetness. Jisung allowed himself to feel one twinge of guilt before sending a big mental fuck you to corporate entertainment. "You like animals a lot, don't you?" Seungmin was back to sunshines and rainbows with his earnest follow up question. </p><p>"He totally does, he's obsessed!" Hyunjin inserted himself, always happy to be the first to respond to Seungmin. By now his hand had slipped off Jisungs shoulder but he still triumphantly encircled Seungmin with the other arm. Jisung had to admit his antics were amusing. </p><p>"I wouldn't say obsessed," Jisung protested lightly.</p><p>"He even tried to read that book by that guy- what's his name- the dude who came up with evolution, Darcey? Dunkirk?"</p><p>"Darwin," Jisung and Seungmin corrected simultaneously.</p><p>Hyunjin snapped his fingers. "Yeah! That dude! Anyways the book was hella thick and he gave up after the foreword." Hyunjin cackled while Jisung hit him on the shoulder. </p><p>"I thought it would be interesting but it wasn't," Jisung pouted. </p><p>"All the more reason you're a squirrel! Short attention span!" Hyunjin giggled.</p><p>“I’m not-! Ugh!” Jisung threw his hands up in frustration.</p><p>Seungmin leaned around Hyunjin’s shaking form and said, "Well, I hope you enjoy your torrented Planet Earth in crisp 4k quality, free of viruses."</p><p>“Thanks Seungmin.”</p><p>"Nah, I'm gonna stand by my theory that this squirrel is just happy the seasons are changing and he can come out of hibernation." Hyunjin proclaimed. </p><p>Jisung tilted his head back, soaking up the cloudless flow of warm blue above them and reached out to touch his umbrella again. "Well, that too."</p><p>A long silence. Too long.</p><p>"...Or maybe it's because he's been busting himself a nut- pfft, get it?"</p><p>"Eat a dick, dude!" Jisung retorted. </p><p>"Hyunjin, that's vulgar!" Seungmin cried.</p><p>"Hey Han Jisung, are you enjoying the nuts you collected for the winter?"</p><p>"You better watch yourself before I disable your nuts for life!"</p><p> </p><p>Above them the sky remained a placid blue, and the fresh breath of new life on the air was a constant reminder that yes, the seasons were changing. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>---</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The funny thing about writer’s block was that no matter how many times you faced it and got over it, it always came back with a new twist, no easier to chase away than the very first time. Obviously, Minho had experienced his fair share of it. He’d written way too much to avoid it.</p><p>After Minho finally (finally!) got the go ahead to publish his first novel, he’d taken a couple weeks off from writing, and reading too for the most part. The majority of that break was spent in dreamland, wrapped up in bed, as if Minho had the world’s most long-lingering hangover to sleep off. In retrospect Minho conceded that the novel had taken a lot out of him. And the Christmas Eve all-nighter had been... Minho stood by the conviction that it was needed, but his body and mind had a high price to pay for it. He tried his best to go out and about with the rest of his time, though it was difficult in January because he absolutely couldn’t stand the cold. New sights and experiences were essential to nourishing the creative mind. Without a project to work on, the least Minho could do was diligently feed his brain.</p><p>In times when the cold got too infuriating for Minho to do anything but curse at the sky and the fact that Jeongin still hadn’t outgrown the gloves Minho was waiting on as a hand-me-up (there was no way Minho was purchasing new gloves with his own hard-earned money) he would curl up in his apartment with a steaming mug of coffee and listen to music. Minho listened to a lot of older artists. He was fascinated by how musicians of past decades expressed the social conditions of the time through their art. What sonic trends said about people’s values at that moment in history.</p><p>Actually, it would probably come as a surprise to most, but Minho had a lot of interest in people. Not on a personal level, dear god no, Minho would rather stand naked in the dead of winter than sit and listen to a stranger’s life story and pretend to care, but in people on a broader scale. The faceless masses. The crowd that, from God’s-eye view, was always moving, always with intent. But inside the crowd was only bumping and groping blindly, struggling to find one's way. Inside the crowd was the illusion of self-determination. But a bird would always follow the flock.</p><p>This dual condition of the human experience intrigued Minho. You are yourself but always part of something greater. Was it possible to carve a path entirely of your choosing? Minho was certainly trying with all his might to do just that.</p><p>And Minho nearly walked with all of his might into the stop light at the corner of the intersection. He’d been so lost in his head that he’d strode right past his publisher’s building. He yanked his earbuds out. He blamed his choice of music today. Pink Floyd always made him philosophical. Anyways, all those thoughts about people were ideas Minho tried to explore in his writing.</p><p>He wrinkled his nose. Back to the writer’s block issue: after his restful winter respite, he’d returned to his desk ready to write again. But he had nothing. And it had remained that way until now. He managed to force out a couple ideas in a manner that felt like what Minho imagined his dad felt on the toilet when he hadn’t eaten enough fiber that week. And what do you know, the ideas were shit. Still, he had to come up with something because his wacko publisher was already asking about a new work.</p><p> </p><p>It’d been a while since Minho had visited his publisher’s office. The last time he pushed through these doors he had needed to knock snow off his boots. Coming out of the elevator and into his publisher’s floor, Minho smelled immediately that something was different.</p><p>“Spring cleaning?” He said by way of greeting the receptionist.</p><p>She nodded. “The cleaners came last week.” She seemed to have her hair debacle under control now, resolving just to dye the whole thing black. Hope for the worst among us. “Lavender scented cleaning products, nice isn’t it?”</p><p>Minho declined to inform her that no, unfortunately it wasn’t nice to him because artificial scents irritated his sense of smell. “Chan is pretty eager to discuss a follow up novel, isn’t he? It’s only been a month or so since my novel’s been published.”</p><p>“Well, you know him. Workaholic.” The receptionist clacked loudly for a couple moments (the office still had those chunky 05’ Windows issue keyboards) and then picked up the landline. “Chan? Yeah, our superstar debut author is here to talk new material. On your request, of course.” She gave Minho a wink before nodding and hanging up. “He’s ready when you are, but hey, I was thinking about that couple you mentioned a while ago.”</p><p>Minho squinted. “What?”</p><p>“You know, the INTP and ISFJ, if they were compatible.”</p><p>Minho dug back into the recesses of his memory and could faintly recall mentioning it. Wow, the receptionist was truly obsessed with MBTI.</p><p>She continued, “I don’t think they’re very compatible after all, I’m guessing they break up in half a year or less.”</p><p>Minho didn’t know how to say that he really didn’t care about two strangers, didn’t believe in MBTI types much in the first place, and most importantly had no interest in romance, so he just edged further inside the office and said, “I should probably go try my luck with Chan now.”</p><p>“Oh, sure. Have a good meeting!”</p><p>Minho knocked on Chan and Woojin’s office and Chan opened the door for him.</p><p>“Come on in,” Chan said. Apparently he had also decided to ditch the bleach job and go black. The perm was gone too, thank god. It was very becoming on him, Minho liked what it did for his nose. Had everyone in the office decided it was time to go back to black? He craned his head around Chan to check the color of Woojin’s head, but blinked instead. The opposite side of the office was empty. No desk, no Woojin, no cup of Bergamot tea that was inexplicably always full.</p><p>Chan noticed Minho’s confusion. “Woojin was fired,” he said shortly. No other explanation was offered. “Would you like to take a seat?”</p><p>Minho gave a mental shrug. Well, one less pompous fuck to argue with.</p><p>“So, how have you been?” Chan asked.</p><p>Minho blinked. Despite all of his gripes with Chan, the one thing he’d wholly appreciated about his publisher up until now was the fact that he didn’t waste time with small talk or pleasantries. “Um.”</p><p>“We haven’t seen you much since your book coming out, so I wanted to check in.” Chan said with a warm smile.</p><p>“I’ve been fine,” Minho said. He really appreciated the thought, except that he didn’t care at all.</p><p>“I’m glad to hear that.” Chan said. He paused like he was waiting for Minho to say something, like maybe ask him how he’s been.</p><p>As the pause stretched slightly past socially acceptable, Minho became acutely aware of this and immediately struck the possibility down. Instead he reached into his bag and smacked a pile of curling packets onto the desk. “I brought a couple ideas.”</p><p>Chan sighed and leaned back into his (comfy and swivelly) office chair. “Well, I guess I should take a look and you can talk me through.” With an expression vaguely resembling disappointment, he picked up one of the packets and started flipping through. Minho shifted in discomfort in the hard seat of his much less comfy chair. He already knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. There was nothing of value there, even though he had tried, he truly had, the amount of pencil markings and white-out on the pages of the print-outs were more than enough proof of that.</p><p> </p><p>Sixty brutal minutes later, the packets were strewn about all over the desk and Chan was giving Minho an apologetic face. “I’ll give you some more time to think, alright?”</p><p>Minho exhaled deeply. The mess on the desk was a poetic metaphor for the state of affairs inside his head as well. He had to give whoever was authoring his life’s story a little nod of acknowledgement. He was sure all he needed was time to overcome his writer’s block.</p><p>“Thanks Chan.” Minho stood to go.</p><p>“Of course mate. Good luck.”</p><p>Minho offered a smile and gave Chan a pat on the back of the hand. “Don’t worry. Inspiration will walk into my life some way or another.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The problem was, inspiration was few and far inbetween when your day job was at a convenience store.</p><p>Minho slouched over the counter. He heard voices that sounded suspiciously like his parents in the back of his head telling him to sit up straight. He studiously ignored them. He was dying of boredom. It was a wonder that his creative mind hadn’t shriveled up and died with all the hours he spent inside this box of insipidness.</p><p>The other inconvenient thing was, because of the Woojin debacle, Chan broke the news to Minho (apologizing profusely) that there was a shortage of business personnel at the moment and his royalties were being delayed. So he was stuck with this until further notice.</p><p>Not that he’d exactly be raking in the royalties. The response to his book hadn’t taken off yet. It wasn’t too surprising considering it hadn’t been out for long, but even as grounded as Minho tried to be in his career hopes, one could dream, right? Even he was guilty of googling his novel and checking all his usual writing related blogs and communities for mentions at least once a night.</p><p>So far a couple news publications and websites had included little one paragraph blurbs on his book in their weekly review columns. Some liked it, some hated it. One said that it was too self-indulgent. Minho had scowled at that. Wasn’t every piece of creative writing self-indulgent on some level? Why else would the author be writing it?</p><p>He tried not to get too mad over reviews but that proved difficult sometimes. On one hand, this was his debut novel, and as an unproven newcomer, he was obligated to be open to criticism. On the other hand, it was his vision and he was <em> right </em>, god dammit!</p><p>As if to punctuate his sudden moment of self-righteousness, the bell dinged.</p><p>Minho started to drawl. “Welco- Oh, it’s you again.”</p><p>Jisung’s eyebrows flew into his fringe. “Minho hyung, you work this time too?” He was in his school uniform, wearing a backpack and clutching a textbook to his chest, school supplies comically large compared to his small frame.</p><p>Minho laughed. “This is the same time you caught me last week,” he pointed out.</p><p>“Oh!” Jisung’s mouth popped into an ‘o’. “I hadn’t realized!” Minho’s first impression of Jisung had been quiet and nondescript, but now he wondered how he could have been so wrong. The kid was so expressive.</p><p>Jisung crouched down in front of the magazine display in front of the counter, brows knitted. His textbook was now sandwiched between his arms and his knees, tucked up neatly. Minho leaned over the counter from the other side to look at him. “Looking for anything in particular?”</p><p>Jisung’s face swivelled up at Minho, looking like a deer in headlights. Minho considered that maybe it was just his default expression. “Not really,” Jisung said, tugging at an earlobe. He sprang to his feet and Minho had to straighten up quickly to avoid a painful cranium on cranium collision.</p><p>Jisung barely seemed to notice the narrowly averted disaster. “D’you mind if I work on my homework here?” Without waiting for an answer, Jisung rounded the counter, squeezed past the waist high door separating the inside of the counter from the rest of the store, and dumped his book and bag next to Minho. </p><p>“..Sure.” Minho belatedly agreed.</p><p>Jisung didn’t reply, busying himself with getting his study supplies out. Folder, pencil pouch, calculator, they hit the counter one by one. For someone taking a run of the mill trip to the convenience store, he came awfully prepared.</p><p>“What are you working on?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>“Hm?” Minho tried to get Jisung’s attention but the boy was refusing to make eye contact, studiously straightening his pencil and eraser parallel to his graph paper and flipping to the right page in his textbook as he gnawed on his lip.</p><p>“Do you always carry around your books conveniently to sit down and work on homework like this?”</p><p>The tip of Jisung’s ear turned red. “Sometimes,” he mumbled unconvincingly, eyes still glued to his paper.</p><p>“Yeah?” Jisung was a funny kid. “Studious of you. How come you and Seungmin haven’t rubbed off on Hyunjin yet?” Minho asked.</p><p>“Dunno,” Jisung replied. Sounds of a pencil scratching.</p><p>He wanted to stay behind the counter and do homework, but he didn’t want to chat. Minho found himself repeating the thought in his head like a mantra: Jisung was a funny kid. But something in Minho wanted to get to know him. Minho left Jisung to his own devices and checked out for some customers that came in and out of the store in the next twenty or so minutes.</p><p>When the store was empty again, Minho gestured towards his thermos, which sat at Jisung’s end of the counter. “Mind passing my thermos?”</p><p>“Oh!” Jisung straightened and immediately grabbed the thermos. He looked into Minho’s eyes with an earnest expression as he handed it over.</p><p>“Now will you answer my question?” Minho laughed. “What are you working on?” The answer was obvious now that Jisung had begun to write equations across his graph paper, but Minho just wanted an easy-in to the conversation.</p><p>Jisung dropped his eyes and they flitted back to his homework. “..Math. Differentials.”</p><p>And there he goes, retreating back into his shell. “Ugh, hate math.” Minho replied.</p><p>Jisung had a sheepish look in his eyes as he tapped numbers rapid fire into his graphing calculator. “It’s not <em> that </em> bad.” Scribbled down another answer. </p><p>“Not that bad!?” Minho acted scandalized. “Then what’s your idea of bad?”</p><p>“It’s embarrassing...”</p><p>“I doubt it, high school is pretty bad in general.”</p><p>“I mean if I told <em> you </em> I would be embarrassed.”</p><p>“I won’t judge, I promise.” Jisung remained infuriatingly silent, Minho could practically feel the anxiety radiating from his tiny body. He certainly was not renowned for his patience with people, but Jisung seemed sweet and miserable enough that Minho made the effort to extend the courtesy. He tried again: “You don’t believe me? My CSAT scores were in the fortieth percentile, okay? You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about with me.”</p><p>The corner of Jisung’s mouth jerked up, betraying him. Minho grinned. “If you can giggle at my CSAT scores, you can tell me your least favorite subject.” Jisung laughed out loud then, and Minho gave himself a pat on the back for the excellent progress he was making with this shy person who, nonetheless, obviously wanted to talk to him.</p><p>“...It’s literature.”</p><p>Minho made a ‘pfft’ sound. “Literature? Why would you be embarrassed?”</p><p>“Since you’re an author and all...”</p><p>“I hated that class too! I mean, I liked the reading for the most part, but dear god the teachers had the most awful interpretations, and then they’d end up forcing their take on your essay.”</p><p>Jisung gave a shy smile in return.</p><p>“What book are you reading right now?”</p><p>Jisung pouted and fished out a copy of Animal Farm.</p><p>“Ah,” Minho said, nodding commiseratingly. “Not always a super fun read.”</p><p>“Yep,” Jisung agreed. "I was excited when I thought it was about animals but then I found out that it was about animals but not <em> actually </em> about animals and-" He shut his mouth quickly when he seemed to realize he'd gone on for more than five words. </p><p>Minho laughed. Personally, he was a fan of political allegories, but he couldn't fault Jisung for thinking otherwise. "Still, some interesting ideas to write about. You started your essay yet?”</p><p>Jisung threw his head into his hands. “Yes.”</p><p>“Let me take a look!”</p><p>“No!” Jisung kept his face behind his hands. “I’m gonna be embarrassed for real!”</p><p>“I swear I’m not gonna make fun of you or anything, I don’t bite. C’mon, I can help you with it if you want.”</p><p>Jisung’s fingers popped apart to reveal a pair of eyes. Minho smiled. Jisung blinked a couple times. He was considering the offer. Then he groaned. "It's too embarrassing!"</p><p>Minho just looked at him imploringly.</p><p>“...Fine.” Jisung moaned. He retrieved a print-out of his rough draft from his bag and handed it over to Minho like he was being taken hostage.</p><p>“It’s so dumb.” Jisung tried to justify. “Don’t laugh. My thesis is about how-”</p><p>“<em> Orwell strategically replaces animal behavior and biology with that of humans in </em> Animal Farm <em> to argue that human nature is basically evil.” </em>Minho read aloud. “Oh. This is interesting. I’ve never thought of things from a biological standpoint.” He turned just in time to catch Jisung turning an interesting shade of magenta.</p><p>“Course you wouldn’t, your thesis was probably much better.”</p><p>Minho fought down the urge to sigh deeply. Did this kid really have to be so self-deprecating? “I wrote about a ton of stupid shit for Lit class,” Minho said. “Just to get on the teacher’s nerves. But I think your thesis is actually of some academic value. So do you cite some sources on animal biology in your essay?”</p><p>“...You think so?”</p><p>Minho gave what he hoped came off as an encouraging nod. He still felt mildly constipated trying to get Jisung to talk. But after reading his essay thesis, Minho had grounds to believe he had some half-decent ideas to share.</p><p>Jisung seemed to contemplate his nod for a while, and Minho imagined how many filters in Jisung’s brain stimulus had to pass through before he perceived it and calculated a suitable reaction. Finally, “Thanks hyung!” Jisung went on,  “And yeah, I do! Um, honestly, it’s pretty much the only work I actually spent time doing for this essay.” He tugged on his earlobe again. “I like science way more than literature so it was more interesting to me, I guess.”</p><p>“That’s cool,” Minho offered. Citing scientific sources in a literary essay. It actually was cool. And given Minho’s aversion to all things STEM related, probably not something he would have ever considered. He scanned through more of the essay and could not tamp down an amused smile. Jisung’s writing was charmingly naive in the way that only a young, unpolished student could be.</p><p>Jisung groaned. “I don’t think my teacher gets it at all though.”</p><p>“I could help you rephrase your thesis for comprehension,” Minho offered.</p><p>Jisung glowed. “Really? That’d be great!” Then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to be shy and lowered his voice again. “...If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”</p><p>“I don’t really have anything better to be doing,” Minho pointed out. “If you don’t mind, could you try and explain to me how you came up with this thesis?”</p><p>“Oh sure,” Jisung said, sounding surprised. “So, well, I thought of it at first because, uh, herds of wild pigs actually have a matriarchal social structure. But the leaders in Animal Farm are all dudes. That was one of the things that kept bugging me while I was reading the book. But then, like, pigs usually keep to groups of around eight or so, which is around the number of pigs that Napoleon placed on his committee! So I started thinking, what if I tried to compare and contrast where the animals acted like, y’know, animals, and where they acted more like humans. And the human characteristics were almost all related to bad stuff that happened in the book, so maybe he’s saying that human nature is basically evil? Sorry if that sounds dumb.”</p><p>It was the most Minho had ever heard Jisung say, and he was pleasantly surprised. Jisung offered a different point of view compared to what he was used to. Minho hummed as the part of his mind reserved only for writing began to whir to life. Except this time, the focus of his concentration was not a novel of his own making but the clumsy yet sincere thesis statement in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>"And our homeroom teacher won't shut up about applying to universities! I mean I get it, we're testing in November, but that's at the end of the year! I'm probably just gonna do CS anyways so what does it matter..."</p><p>Jisung could be pretty talkative indeed once he got comfortable, Minho discovered. They had finished editing Jisung's thesis statement and outline long ago and easily segued into other school grievances. "Oh, you wanna go into tech?" Minho asked. </p><p>"Not really," Jisung replied, "but everyone tells me to since I'm decent at math. And I'm sure my parents would love that." He said snidely. </p><p>"Why don't you do something you're interested in?" Minho said. </p><p>Jisung shrugged. "I'm not really interested in anything. It doesn't really matter that much." He had the appearance of a wilted flower. </p><p>"Of course it matters, it's the rest of your life." If Minho was stuck doing what his parents wanted him to do for the rest of his life, he would surely come to hate the world (even beyond his innate cynicism for it).</p><p>Jisung looked to the side and mumbled a vague non-answer. "It doesn't really matter."</p><p>All of Minho's self-principles wanted him to argue otherwise, but he recognized that Jisung probably wanted him to let it go. He checked the time. "My shift is almost over." </p><p>Jisung made a sound of recognition. "Wow! Time flies! Um, I'll leave when your shift is done if that's alright."</p><p>"Ok," Minho said. </p><p>"Hold on, I gotta grab dinner!" Jisung flew to the fridges before Minho could say anything else. </p><p>"Ah, convenience store meals, the staple of any high schooler's life." Minho grinned, reminiscing as he rang Jisung up for a roll of kimbap.</p><p>Jisung laughed weakly. "Yep."</p><p>"At least you're eating kind of healthy," Minho said. He handed the kimbap back to Jisung. "There you are, valued customer, I hope you enjoyed your visit."</p><p>“Oh, I did!" Jisung exclaimed immediately. "I hope I wasn’t too annoying.” He said, clutching his kimbap.</p><p>Jisung wasn’t annoying. He was fun and engaging. He was a good kid, Minho reflected. It was nice to meet him and Seungmin and learn that maybe Hyunjin was making some valuable friends at that ridiculously overpriced high school their parents had chosen for him.</p><p>“In case you haven’t noticed, working at the cashier of a convenience store isn’t exactly a riveting occupation,” Minho said. “It’s a good thing you showed up. Helping out with someone’s essay is a much more valuable use of my time than stocking shelves.”</p><p>Jisung veritably glowed. Even his hair seemed to lift with his smile, like one of those Ghibli animations. “So you don’t mind if I come again?”</p><p>“Feel free,” Minho said. “I work from three to eight on Mondays and Fridays. And you won’t forget about Wednesdays again, right?” He winked.</p><p>Jisung colored. Today was a Wednesday, the same day Jisung had come the previous week. “No, I won’t!” Minho couldn’t help it, his natural instinct was to tease. He had a sneaking suspicion that Jisung was perfectly aware of exactly when he worked on Wednesdays. Weird kid, but in a way that Minho could only describe as fondly amusing.</p><p>Minho snapped his fingers. “It just occurred to me, if you’re reading Animal Farm for school, there’s an album you might find interesting to listen to.”</p><p>“Oh really? I love music!” Jisung perked up.</p><p>“Animals by Pink Floyd,” Minho said. “It’s not really related to your essay topic but the band took inspiration from Orwell’s work when they crafted the concept for the album.”</p><p>Jisung clasped his hands in front of his chest. “I’ll definitely check it out.”</p><p>Just then, Minho’s coworker came through the door to the convenience store. “Oh, you’re still here?” The man asked.</p><p>“About to leave,” Minho replied. He gathered his stuff and took off his employee vest before stepping outside. Jisung followed him. “I usually leave my shift a couple minutes early,” Minho explained matter-of-factly.</p><p>“What if someone comes in and steals something while you’re not here?” Jisung pointed out. “What if <em> I </em>come in and steal something now that I know you won’t be there?” The shadow of a smile crossed his face. He was making a joke at Minho’s expense.</p><p>Minho snorted. “You wouldn’t do that to me after I so kindly helped you with your essay, would you?” Silently he was gratified that Jisung was starting to come out of his shell.</p><p>“Course not!” Jisung said quickly, still grinning.</p><p>They stood there at the curb, illuminated from behind by the light from the convenience store. Jisung coughed and then said, “Well, I should head home now.”</p><p>Minho peered out into the night. It was almost completely dark at this point. The black of night pushed the last of the purple dusk below the horizon. “I can walk you home,” Minho offered politely.</p><p>“Oh, you don’t have to,” Jisung mumbled. He looked hesitant.</p><p>“It doesn’t feel right letting you run around after dark,” Minho grunted. “You’ll get into trouble.”</p><p>“Oh, me and Hyunjin do that all the time,” Jisung quipped.</p><p>Minho rolled his eyes at the mention of his younger brother. Jisung was indeed Hyunjin’s friend, which meant that some degree of teenage delinquency was programmed into his system. “As much as I’d love to hear about all the shit Hyunjin gets up to in his free time, let’s just get you home safe.”</p><p>Jisung’s face twitched. “It’s alright hyung, I’ll be fine on my own.”</p><p>Minho threw his hands up in the air. “I try to do the nice thing for once in my life, and this kid won’t even let me.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, fine!” Jisung placated. “I live this way.” He started walking and then turned around to check that Minho was following him.</p><p>Minho gave a long suffering sigh and started walking.</p><p>It was still pretty chilly at night, and Minho stuffed himself further into his jacket. Jisung didn’t seem to have a problem, looking perky and alert. They went in a comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated by Jisung pointing out something along the way or Minho complaining about the cold.</p><p>After ten minutes or so Jisung stopped at a rather nice looking apartment complex. “Well, this is me.”</p><p>Of course, Minho reminded himself, Jisung went to Hyunjin’s high school, he must be reasonably well off. He nodded towards the entrance. “See you next time at the convenience store then.”</p><p>“Yeah, see you,” Jisung echoed. He looked back and forth from his building to Minho. “Um, you can go first.”</p><p>Minho shook his head. “I’ll stay and make sure you go in safely.”</p><p>“I live on the first floor, it’s really fine. It doesn’t take long.” Jisung said.</p><p>“Even better.” Minho said. “Go on.”</p><p>Jisung gave Minho a wordless look, obviously debating whether to argue more or not. Finally he sighed. “Okay. Thanks for walking me, Minho hyung. And for all the help with my essay and the music recommendation and-”</p><p>“I get it, I get it, just hurry up will you? I’m freezing to death!” Minho interrupted.</p><p>Jisung raised a little hand and waved as he walked backwards. “Bye.”</p><p>“Bye.” Minho smiled and wiggled the fingers that peeked out from his sleeve.</p><p>Jisung trotted towards the entrance, backpack bouncing up and down on his shoulders, punched in the code, and went inside. Minho figured he would wait a bit longer just to be sure.</p><p>After a couple long, cold moments in front of the building, a light went on in one of the first floor units. Probably Jisung getting in, Minho thought, smiling a little bit to himself. Satisfied, he turned to go when heard a sharp female voice, muffled but unmistakable. Minho couldn’t make out the words as he squinted towards the illuminated unit, but the meaning was very clear.</p><p>He thought about it the entire walk home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi everyone! whew, this chapter is almost twice as long as the three preceding ones, and i think things will continue like this. i went through a pretty big mid-fic crisis and did a big shake down of my plans for this fic and i’m still not completely happy with the outline but it’s definitely progress! tbh i’ll probably go back and edit a lot once i’ve finished to make things perfect, but for now the bigger task at hand is actually writing it. this might end up being a lot longer than i anticipated :0 and i hope you'll bare with my metatextual references haha! i cant help myself.</p><p>Up next: Jisung makes an effort to dress up, Hyunjin and Seungmin have a meaningful conversation, and Minho offers some life advice.</p><p>
  <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC!</a>
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        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <span>Jisung was falling.</span>
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  <span>It wasn't like any earthly sensation he had ever experienced. He wasn’t plummeting, rather floating slowly down towards an undefinable point in time. Sky was the only thing he saw for miles in every direction; he must be nowhere near the ground. How strange gravity was. The force that was tugging him insistently back to Earth. In our everyday lives the true nature of gravity rarely occurs to us, but from such great heights Jisung could see it now: gravity didn’t draw everything down, it drew everything to one, singular point. A point that he was slowly, leisurely swimming towards through an endless electron cloud of blue.</span>
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  <span>Jisung drifted for a long time before he realized he was speeding up. The floating sensation was beginning to feel like a real fall. Wind that caressed his cheeks earlier now buffeted him in gusts. He looked down and suddenly he could see the ground, amorphous yet fast approaching, unfolding to reveal more and more detail like the world’s largest fractal. The Earth looked strange. What Jisung saw didn’t look like mountains and valleys and deserts and oceans. No, its surface was peach colored and seemed to pulse and move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a good shake. When he opened them again, his lips parted in a scream that was immediately ripped from his lungs and rendered soundless by the velocity of his fall. The ground was right there, twenty, now ten, now five meters away. In that split second between opening his eyes and realizing he was about to become a tiny splatter against the surface of the Earth, the peach colored ground came into harrowing focus. Round circles, and on each circle two dots and a triangle and a curved line, and then in with horrific clarity Jisung realized he was face to face with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>face,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a billion faces, all watching as he fell, and the one he was looking into belonged to someone he knew: his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung braced himself for impact, the moment when both he and his mother would splinter into uncountable fragments, but it never came. Instead, the Earth seemed to open up for him as he continued falling. And all around him were faces. Faces of people he knew, classmates, teachers, his friends, all watching impassively as he plummeted downwards. As soon as he passed, they would divert their vision elsewhere as if the conclusion of his journey was of no importance to them. He was too terrified to even scream. Wind froze his cold sweat to his body. He saw Eric, and then Sunwoo, and then the faces of the three pretty girls in the other homeroom class. He was falling, but he could see each of their expressions so perfectly clearly, as if everything was happening in slow motion. He could see the imperceptible tugging of the muscles around their eyes at the exact moment they decided to avert their gazes. The exact moment they chose to leave him behind. And that was the moment he realized he was no longer falling but floating, glued in place as the faces around him flew upwards, up and up towards the light. He saw the face of his homeroom teacher and Changbin and Minho. As much as he struggled to follow them upwards, like a fly in honey, he was trapped. His heart lurched as he saw Hyunjin, made eye contact and saw his best friend stare right through him, and then the two sunken faces of his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he was alone. Mercifully, familiarly alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he found his voice. “Don’t leave me,” he said quietly, his words cracking. It was too late. “Everyone is already gone.” Surrounding him was a dark, cold void. Like an astronaut floating without a tether, the finality of his loneliness settled upon Jisung’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone. I’m still here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung turned around. “Who’s there?” He had never heard the voice before, and yet it was unsettlingly familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man’s figure stepped from the darkness. “It’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shiver ran down Jisung’s spine. The man wasn’t physically imposing, he was more or less the same height as Jisung. His face was middle aged. Once again, he looked unsettlingly familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t recognize me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was seeing how his brows moved, how his mouth wrapped around the syllables, that struck Jisung with realization. His eyes stung and static rung in his ears. His mouth was like cotton as he said, “You’re me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung was looking at himself, twenty five or thirty years from now. It was too unnatural. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream, but he was frozen to the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And me too-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So am I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everywhere Jisung looked, versions of himself were emerging from the darkness. Varying ages, some younger, some older, some nearly falling off the bone in their age. Frantically he looked around as they closed him on him, repeating “I’m here,” as if in an echo chamber. Jisung clamped his hands over his ears but he could still hear them. He closed his eyes but he could still see them. He felt bile rising up from his stomach. He opened his mouth to scream, “LEAVE ME ALO-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung woke up as a bang cracked through his ears, jolting upright in his bed in a cold sweat. His chest was heaving up and down violently and his heartbeat skittered in his chest cavity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to his room banged again. “Jisung, wake up! You’ll be late for school!” It was his mother. For once in his life, Jisung was glad that she had woke him. He tried to steady his breathing. It was just a dream. A nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to god, I don’t know a more lazy creature on earth that can sleep through all this noise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m up, I’m up!” Jisung called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going out! If you’re late to school, trust me I’ll hear it from Soobin and Beomgyu’s mothers!” There was one more bang on the door and then she was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung deflated, collapsing into his sheets once again. He laid there, desperately trying to clear his head. Finally he rolled over and onto his bedroom floor. He grabbed his uniform pants. It was time to get ready for school.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyunjin, are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> we’ll be able to make it inside soon?” Seungmin took his phone out of his pocket to check the time again, anxiety written all over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so- look, that group just went inside, there are only seven parties ahead of us now.” Hyunjin bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been waiting for half an hour already,” Seungmin pointed out sharply. “I have to go to hagwon in like thirty minutes, I don’t think we have time for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw come on, the reviews look so good!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we can come back later? When I don’t have hagwon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have hagwon every day! And you said you would have time today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Seungmin replied, voice falling into a clipped, corrective tone. “I said that I would have time </span>
  <em>
    <span>before five</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At five I have hagwon and I can’t miss it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin huffed a breath out of his cheeks. “What’s so important about prep classes that you don’t already know anyways? You’re super smart, Seungmin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s only because I study hard! I go to hagwon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missing one day will be fine,” Hyunjin waved off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungmin frowned. “My parents will find out, I’m serious, I can’t miss it or even be late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin gaped. “You can’t even be late? What’s so bad about that? You’re Rank 1, I’m sure your parents can live with you being late to prep classes </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t understand. It’s not that my parents will be mad, I just can’t disappoint them like that. It’s not right.” Seungmin’s brow was set.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean it’s not right?” Hyunjin sounded irritated but also genuinely confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just- I have to be a good student and attend hagwon and handle my studies to the best of my abilities. It’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right thing to do</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Hyunjin had heard Seungmin say this before, about doing well in school simply being ‘right’. “Hyunjin, you probably wouldn’t understand. I just can’t break the rules, it’s not me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Hyunjin exclaimed. He latched onto Seungmin’s arm. “That’s probably cuz you just haven’t tried it yet! Give it a chance and I promise it will feel fun. It’s a thrill!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can assure you that I wouldn’t enjoy that kind of ‘thrill’.” Seungmin gave a scoff that came from deep in his throat and Hyunjin dropped his hands almost instantly. “You really don’t understand me, do you Hyunjin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I don't understand why you can't just skip one time!" Hyunjin said, raising his voice in frustration. “You’re so fucking lame!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>don't understand why you won't just let me go to hagwon!" Seungmin replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then go! You obviously don't want to be here." Hyunjin snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungmin looked momentarily stunned but quickled pulled himself together to retort, "At least you're right about one thing." And then he turned heel and walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin clenched his fist and opened his mouth determined to get the last word, but Seungmin was already halfway down the block and Hyunjin still hadn’t thought of a retort. Hyunjin closed his mouth and let his shoulders fall, watching Seungmin’s retreating form. The other boy didn’t look back even once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only after Seungmin turned a corner did Hyunjin realize that he was still standing in line, clutching a useless slip of paper with their waiting number. He threw the slip to his feet in anger. It fluttered slowly to the sidewalk, as if taunting him. Then he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and stalked out of line himself.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jisung, quit moving my chair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then you move it yourself! I gotta get out!” Jisung had somewhere to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was some scuffling in the aisle of the pc cafe that Jisung, Hyunjin, Changbin, Sunwoo, and Eric occupied. Jisung tried to squeeze past Hyunjin’s chair at the same time that Hyunjin tried to move further toward the table to let him through, and suddenly Hyunjin’s cola was spilling all over the table before either of them could blink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” Hyunjin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” Jisung squeaked, jumping away from the spill and almost knocking into the gamers on the other side of the row. “It can’t touch my jacket!” He had picked out his nicest one specially for today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurry up and get napkins,” Hyunjin growled, a pinch already forming across his forehead. He stood up, holding his arms away from himself like a scarecrow as he surveyed what had gotten on his jeans. Changbin and Eric passed their used snack napkins to Hyunjin while Sunwoo continued clicking away, swearing passionately at his screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung ran to the counter and came back with a towel. Apparently this kind of thing happened often, so the place was prepared. “Here,” he offered the towel to Hyunjin, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do it yourself!” Hyunjin snapped. “You’re the one who made me spill it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already told you, I have to go!” Jisung said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin fixed Jisung with a glare that would have withered anyone less friendly with him. Jisung was more focused on trying to leave quickly, so he just offered a toothy grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin scoffed and snatched the towel from Jisung, throwing it on his desk in disgust. “Where are you going that’s so important? And dressed up like this?” Hyunjin gestured to Jisung’s jacket and hair, which was parted three-quarters over his forehead with just a touch of hairspray for volume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung fought down a flush. “Home,” He lied, “My mom needs me to help her with something and she’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> me if I don’t show up. And what, I can’t look nice for once? Maybe I just felt like looking good today!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t call ‘I just raided my Dad’s closet’ looking good,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You made me clean up after </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> spill so get out of my face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man what’s with you anyways?” Jisung snapped back. He loathed to even imagine stealing from his dad's closet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of your business.” Hyunjin scowl went from bad to worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okaaay,” Jisung dragged out flatly and put his hands in the air. “Sorry I asked.” It seemed like Hyunjin was always on his man period. “Bye guys. Cya later or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He retreated stonily to the bathroom before he left. As he checked his jacket and hair in the mirror, just to make sure everything looked right, he felt an unreasonable irritation at Hyunjin’s comment. Yeah, the dude was the most fashion forward amongst their friend group, and they’d definitely had laughs over lunch at the expense of some random first year’s style, but that didn’t mean he could make shitty comments about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jisung’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> wardrobe choices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever, who the hell cared what Hyunjin thought? The only person whose opinion mattered, Jisung realized with a gulp, was the person he was going to see now. He checked the time on his phone. It was already past five, thanks to the cola incident. Accounting for the time it took to get to his destination, Jisung would probably be able to spend a little over two hours there. Giving his appearance a last onceover in the grubby bathroom mirror and finding things satisfactory, (fuck what Hyunjin thought,) Jisung left the pc cafe and headed off in the direction of his usual (and now favorite) convenience store.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However much he tried to shake it, his dream from a couple nights ago stuck in his mind. By the time he reached the convenience store, he was a bundle of nerves. His anticipation for seeing Minho was replaced with a looming, shadowy fear that somehow he would push through the convenience store doors and Minho wouldn’t be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was with great trepidation that he approached the convenience store. Cautiously he peered through the glass door, trying to catch a glimpse of who was manning the counter inside. And there he was, this time bent over a book. Jisung was overcome with a sudden buoyant feeling and he hurried to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung!” Jisung couldn’t contain himself, blurting as soon as the automatic door slid open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho raised his head from the counter. “Oh, Jisung,” he smiled and closed his book. “I was wondering when you would drop by next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho had wondered about him too? A feeling of relief, and oddly, excitement washed over Jisung. He stood there at the entrance, grinning and waiting for Minho to notice something different about him today. Truthfully, Jisung didn’t know exactly why he’d felt the need to look nicer than usual to see Minho this time, but the idea of getting acknowledgement from Minho in any shape or form thrilled him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments, Minho blinked his large eyes slowly. “What are you doing standing there? You’re keeping the automatic door open.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh-” Jisung felt blood coming to his face as he practically jumped from the spot he was standing. Sheepishly, he stumbled to the front of the counter, feeling all too aware of the sound of the automatic door finally sliding shut behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho gave a little chuckle at Jisung’s antics. “So did you listen to my recommendation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Jisung</span>
  <em>
    <span> had</span>
  </em>
  <span> listened to Minho’s recommendation, very carefully. First he listened while he read the lyric translations side by side. It was pretty time consuming and demanding of his attention span because there were long, long stretches without lyrics. But Jisung stuck with it. It was Minho’s recommendation, after all. Then he re-read the lyrics three times before he put the album on again, poring over the Namwiki article on Pink Floyd while he listened a second time. He found, unexpectedly, that there was a message in the album that really got to him. By the time he’d looked up, two hours had elapsed. Which was fine, he had plenty of time to kill. And plus, it was Minho’s recommendation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was awesome hyung! It’s so cool how the whole album is like one big song!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho beamed. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites from Pink Floyd, though some of their other works have a greater reputation. It’s not directly related to Animal Farm, since Orwell is critiquing Stalinism and Waters is critiquing capitalism, but it employs the same Orwellian concept of comparing human behavior to various animals. I’m glad you liked it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot of Minho’s words flew right over Jisung’s head despite his best efforts to jump up and catch them, but he latched on to the comment about capitalism. “I think I enjoyed the lyrics a lot more because they were a critique of capitalism, not, um,” Jisung tried to remember the ‘ism’ word that Minho had just used, “um, Stalinism.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho nodded. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cuz it’s way more relevant to what’s going on now, you know. Like, capitalism pervading society and hurting people.” Jisung bit his lip, considering the point he was trying to make. It was honestly really nerve-wracking trying to express his thoughts to Minho, who was obviously well-read and led a life very rich in ideas, but Minho’s face was patient and encouraging. Jisung ploughed ahead. “Maybe it’s because the Pink Floyd album came out way later or because their lyrics are more abstract than literal or because I just connect better with words when they’re set to music but when I listened I felt like.. I knew what they were talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Minho said. “I definitely agree about that. I feel like we can all relate the songs to at least one person we know in our life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung just nodded. The suggestion of relating the songs to people in his life gave him pause, and suddenly his mind was thrown far, far away, floating out in the cold infinite darkness of space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let’s try our best not to be sheep,” Minho said as if through a veil of fog. “...Jisung?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung snapped out of it. Right, sheep. In the album they were meant to symbolize, well, sheep. The mindless herd of the masses. “And how do we do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho hummed. “Well, take charge of your life. Question the status quo. Refuse to be swallowed up by what society expects of you. Y’know, pursue what you’re truly passionate about in life.” With that he gave a firm jab with his first two fingers into the center of Jisung’s forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Jisung cried. Try as he might it was absolutely useless to fight the smile on his face. “Hyunjin says I look like a squirrel anyways,” Jisung offered. “Not a sheep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho appraised him and Jisung felt his whole body prickle under the scrutiny. It was a feeling of nervousness, but also of something else he couldn’t place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally Minho said, “You really do. See? Already well on your way to not being a sheep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was still looking at him and Jisung shifted uncomfortably. “Um, thanks for being here today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho gave him a strange look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.” Jisung looked away. “You could have ghosted or given me the wrong time, to get rid of me or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell did you get that idea?” Minho sounded offended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in front of him Minho sighed and then firm hands fell on Jisung’s shoulders, first on the left and then on the right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jisung, come on, look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Begrudgingly, Jisung brought his gaze up to Minho’s face. “Of course I’ll be here.” Minho said. “I’ll always be here for you, okay Jisung?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve said it, and that makes it real. The power of words, and everything. Now at least give me a nod or something, let me know that you heard me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Thanks hyung.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Minho withdrew, but not before giving Jisung a firm pat on the shoulder. “You can always come find me. Remember that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll remember,” Jisung said quietly, a tentative smile finding its way to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Jisung-” Minho began, freezing halfway as he straightened himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung gave Minho an open expression now. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ever-” Minho tried and then aborted. “You’ll tell me if-” Jisung could see the words flying around behind Minho’s irises, clearly absorbed in thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Minho straightened up fully and took a step back. The movement behind his eyes died as the words refused to coalesce into sentences for Jisung’s ears. “Nevermind, it’s none of my business.” Minho said instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung opened his mouth and then closed it again. “What..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho gave a tight-lipped smile. “It’s really nothing, Jisung.” A pause hung in the air. Then he got a bit of a glint in his eye and he asked, “Now why don’t we take a look at that essay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw hyung, I don’t wanna do work, don’t you have to stock shelves or something?” Jisung whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho scoffed. “I’m procrastinating that. C’mon. By the way, that’s a nice jacket you’re wearing today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite all of his protests, Jisung scuttled to the inside of the counter with excitement. “Thanks hyung!” And hadn’t Minho actually taken him seriously when they talked about the album just now? Jisung was quite sure that he was glowing.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can always come find me. Remember that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Light spilled into the hallway and fell over Jisung’s face as he turned the phrase over and over in his mind, smiling to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, my parents are gonna fucking kill me if they find out about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung looked to his left to see Changbin, uniform tie hanging hastily around his neck as his long face screwed up into a grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And my arms are starting to cramp up,” Changbin added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were knelt on the ground in the hallway right outside their classroom door, hands held over their heads as punishment for being late for the fourth time this week. It was a Thursday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung nodded. “My knees are killing me.” He had next to no padding to protect his kneecaps from the hard linoleum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changbin sighed. “If my parents find out about this, I’m screwed. They said the next time they got a call from school they would cut my allowance in half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s right, Jisung remembered, Changbin’s parents sent him money from Incheon every month and put him up in one of those little one-room goshiwons near their campus. It was no strain on them since his parents were loaded and needless to say, Changbin’s monthly allowance was huge too. Jisung was certain that even half would be enough for him to eat the donkatsu at his and Hyunjin’s regular haunt for dinner every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sucks,” Jisung offered anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I have to buy a new pop-filter too,” Changbin groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pop-filter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, the thing that you put in front of the mic so that your recording doesn’t sound weird when you’re rapping ‘p’ sounds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that,” Jisung said. “I just didn’t know what the name for it was.” They all enjoyed the music, but Changbin and Jisung were considered the ‘true’ hip-hop heads within their friend group. Changbin actually recorded some stuff and uploaded it to SoundCloud occasionally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I keep telling you dude, you can come over and use my mic sometime if you want. Or mess around with some beats, it’s really fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhhh, yeah maybe some time!” Jisung replied. To be honest, he was afraid of hearing his voice playback and realizing that he sounded stupid. Even though he was fairly happy with his shitty phone recordings, he was still worried that professional equipment would somehow expose a different truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation petered out. About a minute later, Changbin broke the silence with a big sigh. Then he sighed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung got the message and asked, “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changbin was uncharacteristically quiet for a while, so long that Jisung started to wonder if he’d interpreted things wrong. But finally he began, “I don’t know man, these days I’m starting to feel bad about acting like this. Coming late to class, skipping tutoring my parents paid for. We’re applying this year, technically. I just feel like, I dunno, I should be getting serious now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung didn’t know how to reply. He couldn’t really say that he felt the same. It was a point of view he’d been intentionally avoiding for pretty much his entire high school career.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what, it’s no big deal. Forget what I just said,” Changbin said. He gave up on holding his arms over his head, dropping them to rub the aches out. “And don’t tell the other guys, I’d never hear the end of it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> from Sunwoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Sure, Changbin.” When he turned to face his friend, Changbin was giving Jisung a sheepish grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung offered a small smile in return.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t manage to stop thinking about Changbin’s words, however. It seemed like every other interaction these days served to remind Jisung that college was indeed looming on the horizon. He realized that he’d expected things to stay the same. He’d never really considered the day when his high school life would come to an end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it!” Someone barked. Jisung felt a body collide into his and he stumbled back. He lifted his head ready to fire back, but- oh, it was just Hyunjin. They were standing in the middle of the hall- class had just gotten out. Jisung had barely perceived the day passing by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously man, would it kill you to pay attention?” Hyunjin groused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung squinted, taking a closer look at his friend. Hyunjin's forehead was pinched, his shoulders raised defensively, and there was a pimple near his hairline that he'd apparently picked at enough to break skin. It must have been there at least for the last few days, but Jisung hadn't bothered to notice. "What's eating you?" Jisung finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing," Hyunjin replied briskly and much too quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung thought about it. "You were bitchy at the pc cafe yesterday too," he realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin started off in the direction of the gates and Jisung had to practically jog to keep up. "Aw, come on dude," he prodded. "We tell each other things, don't we?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin just grunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you grounded?” Jisung began fishing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, dumbass, otherwise I wouldn’t have been at the pc cafe yesterday, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung continued undeterred. “Is Jeongin 'acting like a little shit' again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck no, thank god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it Minho?" </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can always come find me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jisung indulged in replaying the memory in his head just once more at the mention of Minho’s name before returning his attention to the situation at hand. Hyunjin just rolled his eyes and continued walking faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did Seungmin and you have a fight?" Jisung threw it out as a last resort, but then Hyunjin went suspiciously silent. "..Oh my god, you guys actually fought?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin refused to look at Jisung, an angry stare stubbornly fixed somewhere on the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you get along so well!" Jisung said. He was genuinely shocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin scoffed. "Apparently not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened, Hyunjin? I'm sure you can talk it out." And just as Jisung was really starting to grow fond of Seungmin himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not worth the trouble." Hyunjin said snidely. "He's ridiculous."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s worth the trouble!” Jisung said. “He probably feels awful too! When’s the last time you talked to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saturday,” Hyunjin answered instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been five days!” Jisung exclaimed. “Five days without talking to Seungmin, how are you still alive!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin snarled. “Jisung, you are this close to kissing the pavemen-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey shitters! League at the pc cafe today? We can do 5-man queue.” Sunwoo’s voice interrupted Hyunjin’s death threat. He, Changbin, and Eric were loitering just outside the gates, obviously waiting for Jisung and Hyunjin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw man, why can’t we do noraebang today?” Eric protested weakly. He was probably tired of being relegated to playing support every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking pity on the poor dude, but mostly acting in the interest of solving Hyunjin’s Seungmin related problem, Jisung opened his mouth before Hyunjin could agree and announced loudly, “Nope! Hyunjin and I are getting donkatsu today! Middle school throwback! That leaves just the three of you so go do noraebang.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eric’s eyes sparkled. “Can we?” He asked Sunwoo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, but if Hyunjin isn’t there-” Sunwoo began grumbling, but Jisung didn’t get to hear the rest of his thoughts on the matter because he was already waving goodbye and pushing Hyunjin out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When the fuck did I agree to donkatsu?” Hyunjin snapped, although he allowed Jisung to push him along without much resistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just now,” Jisung replied. “Oh, come on, don’t pretend like you’re not upset. You’ve been acting like an ass all week... I’m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was a bit preoccupied with preparing for when I would next see your brother</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jisung added in his head. He felt a flutter of embarrassment at even admitting the thought to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jisung further justified, “It sounds like you need some comfort food in your system for this conversation. Otherwise you’ll be biting my hands off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, when their plates were whisked off the hands of their server and in front of their places, Hyunjin attacked his donkatsu with a violence that indicated he was very grateful to have something to stab a knife into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So tell me what happened,” Jisung said through a mouth of fried goodness, picking through his donkatsu to save the cheesiest (best) pieces for last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they put more cheese in yours than mine,” Hyunjin complained, spearing a slice of his and observing the cheese pull with an annoyed frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just imagining things cuz you’re pissed. And stop changing the subject,” Jisung replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not changing the subject,” Hyunjin said, stuffing his mouth. “Gimme one of your cheesy pieces.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jisung laughed, rolling his eyes. “Just tell me what happened! Otherwise I won’t be able to help you solve your Seungmin problem and I’ll be stuck with a Hyunjin that always sees the glass half-empty and the donkatsu less-cheesy side of life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin scoffed through the food in his mouth. But Jisung’s stupid word-play seemed to do the trick because he paused in a moment of hesitation. Apparently deciding he might as well let his frustration out now that the opportunity presented itself, he swallowed and began recounting the whole argument to Jisung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw man,” Jisung said as Hyunjin finished his story. He was at a loss for words for a minute, processing things. He had never been the best at offering advice that had to do with interpersonal relationships. No wonder Hyunjin had been upset all week though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Hyunjin snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, Jisung had to say something so that Hyunjin wouldn’t feel like he’d opened up for nothing. “..No wonder you’ve been upset all week,” He finally decided on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back on the legs of his chair. “Hmph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Seungmin feels upset too!” Jisung hurried to add. “You both were frustrated that the other person couldn’t see things from your point of view, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess so,” Hyunjin said. He deflated into his chair chewing glumly. “And I called him </span>
  <em>
    <span>lame</span>
  </em>
  <span>... What do I do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to him, obviously!” Jisung answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like you said, he's probably pissed with me! I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm</span>
  </em>
  <span> still mad at </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>for just leaving me there too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's why you guys gotta talk it out!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no way I'm texting him first, when he's ready he can come to me." Hyunjin said stubbornly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyunjin,” Jisung began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused as he mulled over what he wanted to say. Though Jisung knew for a fact Hyunjin liked Seungmin in a romantic sense, they had never actually talked about it in those exact words. Usually Jisung wouldn’t be the person to push a sensitive topic like this, but it was as if his chemical makeup had gone through a smattering of minute changes recently and within him bubbled up the decision that it was time to be bold and level with his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be honest, when has Seungmin ever been ‘like you’? But you like him anyway!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung wasn’t surprised by the alarm that flashed in Hyunjin’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, you can say it out loud, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin glanced around the shop. “I just- saying it out loud makes it </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It reminded Jisung of what Minho had said to him. The power of words. Saying something makes it real. It gave him the courage to voice what he had to say next: “But don’t you want it to be real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin swallowed. At some point he’d set his chopsticks down, too agitated to even eat. “I don’t know, Jisung...” He started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not judging if you do!” Jisung rushed to say. “You know you have my support.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Hyunjin said. “But other people..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who gives a shit what other people say!” Jisung exclaimed. “What happened to your fuck-the-world attitude?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin was silent. It appeared that for once in the time that Jisung had known his friend, Hyunjin was struggling with self-consciousness. Jisung felt overwhelmed by a flood of empathy for him. He knew exactly how that felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyunjin..?” Jisung prodded softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do... want it to be real.” Hyunjin was looking at a spot on the floor somewhere to his side. Then he looked up at Jisung, a determined fire in his eyes, and repeated himself with more confidence. “I do want it to be real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung felt a smile tugging at his lips. “You can patch things up with Seungmin, I know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Hyunjin agreed. “I’m just worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung nodded. “That’s cuz you care. It’s a good thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin slumped into his chair and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know... I'll try and talk to him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung grinned. “Good. You were much easier to deal with when your top priority was flirting with Seungmin.” He picked out an extra cheesy piece from his plate and dropped it on Hyunjin’s plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hyunjin looked like he wanted to strangle Jisung, scowling and flushing brilliantly, but he shoved Jisung’s offering down his throat nonetheless. “‘Fanks” He said through the mouthful, and Jisung had a feeling he was thanking him for a lot more than a piece of donkatsu.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jisung, you alright today? You’ve been acting a little off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung blinked as his senses returned to the real world. He was behind the counter at the convenience store with Minho again. It was true, he’d been spaced out and in his head a lot today. Since yesterday, when he’d had that talk with Hyunjin, actually. It had been a lot more emotionally and mentally draining on Jisung than he’d thought at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, hyung,” Jisung reassured. He tried to refocus back on his assignment sheet but his mind simply would not cooperate with him today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His efforts continued fruitlessly until at last Minho began gathering his belongings in preparation for heading out. Jisung put his own things away as well, donning his backpack and clutching the shoulder straps to his chest. The two made easy conversation until they paused under the overhang of the store. This was usually where they parted ways, except for the one time Minho had offered to walk Jisung home. He hadn’t offered again, which Jisung didn’t quite know what to make of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung turned to say goodbye, smile finding its way to his face on instinct, but Minho spoke first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jisung, I wanted to ask you about something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden and serious quality of Minho’s voice made Jisung nervous. “..Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I overheard your mother after you went inside the other night, when I walked you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung’s heart jumped into his throat. Minho had heard his mom yelling at him even through the walls?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho paused expectantly, waiting for Jisung to say something in reply. But Jisung was too scared of the situation to say anything. He’d never talked about this to anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you seem to spend a lot of time here at the convenience store, or out with your friends,” Minho offered. It was as if he was laying puzzle pieces down one by one, waiting patiently for Jisung, who was holding the last piece, to complete the picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung held his breath. Inside his mind was a stormy ocean and his words were locked in a sunken chest at the very bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually Minho frowned. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry I asked. I was just wondering if there was anything I could do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung’s gaze remained fixed to the asphalt as he wrestled with his words. His throat suddenly felt like it hadn’t been used in years. The strange thing was that some small, miniscule part of him </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to open up to Minho about this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in the periphery, Minho let out a soft sigh. “I’ll see you next week, then?” When no reply came, he made to walk away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung,” Jisung blurted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho stopped. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung stared at his shoes. “I.. don’t like spending time at home.” Each word was like a step across wet cement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho gave an encouraging hum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um..” Jisung faltered. “My parents don’t like me much. And I don't like them. They don’t like each other much either. So. It’s better if I just stay away as much as I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a debilitatingly dreading beat: “That’s hard.. I’m sorry Jisung.” Minho didn’t sound surprised, but he sounded genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that bad,” Jisung heard himself saying. “I can tune her out most of the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, but it’s not something you should have to go through.” Minho replied. He paused. “I asked in case you needed someone to talk to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jisung said. He hadn’t realized. He’d been too caught up in fighting his own internal battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho remained quiet. A solid, steady, slow breathing presence at Jisung’s side. He seemed to always know when Jisung needed time to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t actually talked to anyone about it before,” Jisung confessed. He lifted his head for the first time and met with Minho’s supportive expression, lips just barely curled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to talk about it now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now? Jisung realized he hadn’t counted on talking about it, ever. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to. “But, your shift is over,” Jisung said. “You’re going home now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho’s cat-like eyes wandered towards the night sky as if he was considering something. Jisung followed his gaze up. Hung front and center across a deluge of black was the Big Dipper- Ursa Major. Jisung's mind supplied him that it's position in the sky meant Spring had undoubtedly arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho seemed to come to a decision because his eyes flicked back to Jisung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.. would you like to come with me?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it's been so long! hopefully I can start updating this regularly again. also you might have realized after reading this chapter that the "up next" note i gave in the last a/n was a complete lie LMFAO. obviously i'm still changing some things as i write &amp; some of those things still havent happened lol. this chapter just got so long. so i won't try to do that anymore.</p><p>fyi hagwon is just after school prep/tutoring in korea</p><p> <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Would you like to come with me?”</p><p>The question rendered Jisung speechless for a moment. Really? Go over to Minho’s apartment? He’d always been taught to be wary of going over to the houses of people he didn’t know well, but Minho wasn’t a stranger. It wouldn’t even be Jisung’s first time at his place either. Jisung’s vacillations were overridden by his near insatiable excitement for spending time with Minho.</p><p>But, “I don’t want to be a bother..” Jisung began.</p><p>Minho shook his head. “You aren’t.”</p><p>“But you have to work on your next book..” Minho had told Jisung that he was working on a new idea now that his first book had been published.</p><p>“Let me let you in on a secret,” Minho said, eyes flickering conspiratorially as he leaned towards Jisung. He put his hand perpendicular to his mouth, palm facing outwards, said, “I’m suffering from really fucking bad writer’s block. I can’t come up with shit right now.” He chuckled. “So it’s not like I’ll get much done anyways.”</p><p>That succeeded in getting Jisung to crack a smile. “In that case.. lead the way.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The elevator ride and subsequent journey through the hallways to the door of Minho’s unit smelled exactly the way Jisung remembered it. The one-room apartment looked a little bigger now that there were only two people in it, but it was still decidedly cramped.</p><p>“You can go ahead and sit down,” Minho said, shrugging off his jacket and turning the heater on first thing. “Do you want something to drink? Tea?”<br/>“Oh, sure,” Jisung said. “Umm, where should I put my backpack?”</p><p>“Armchair is fine,” Minho said, already filling water into a kettle that looked like it had seen better days.</p><p>Jisung dropped his stuff on the armchair and settled on one of the sitting pillows at the low table in the ‘living room’. Except it wasn’t exactly a living room because Minho was putting the kettle on the stove in the kitchenette just three meters away. He clasped his hands together on the table and stared at how his thumbs folded over each other. He was nervous about the imminent conversation.</p><p>Once the kettle was underway, Minho turned and leaned against the counter as he regarded Jisung. “Want something to read?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to talk about the heavy stuff right off the bat.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jisung said. “Yeah, you’re right.” Minho nodded and they looked at each other for a beat. “Actually, could I read your book?”</p><p>Minho looked surprised. “Sure,” he said, crossing the room to look for the book amongst the packed shelves that lined the walls.</p><p>“I read a little bit when I came over that one time,” Jisung reminded.</p><p>“Oh really? I guess I forgot about that,” Minho said. He placed the paperback in front of Jisung. “Thanks for being interested.” He paused. “Geez, that came off sounding sarcastic. But I’m being genuine!”</p><p>“Of course!” Jisung said. “I really like your writing, hyung.”</p><p>Minho smiled widely. His freakishly big eyes crinkled up and seemed to glitter. “Is it alright if I change out of this while we wait for the water to boil?” He gestured at his clothes, the ones he wore to man the convenience store.</p><p>“Yeah, I mean, go ahead, I mean, it’s your house!” Jisung replied.</p><p>Minho laughed and disappeared behind the divider that separated the space Jisung assumed he used as a bedroom from the rest of the apartment, leaving Jisung with his novel. The cover art was an illustration of the silhouette of a girl’s profile reflecting on the glass pane of an airplane window looking out on a blue sky, except the subject was rendered so abstractly that it took Jisung several moments to recognize what it was. The face of the girl seemed like a translucent flicker across the undisturbed surface of a lake. Jisung opened the book and began on page one. The part he’d read last time had been from one of Minho’s rough draft packets, so he had no idea which part of the story he’d been reading.</p><p>Some indeterminate amount of time later, the kettle began to squeal and Minho emerged from the divider and took it off the stove. He was wearing a matching purple sweat set. It couldn’t have taken him that long just to change. Jisung realized that it was probably Minho’s intention to give Jisung a little time to himself before they started talking.</p><p>“I only have jasmine, is that alright?” Minho asked.</p><p>“Sure,” Jisung said. Actually, he didn’t really drink tea, but he didn’t want to turn down Minho’s hospitality.</p><p>Minho stood on his tiptoes to pull a box of individually packaged tea bags from the cupboard. Jisung heard a groan and lifted his head. “I’m all out,” Minho said, staring into the empty box. He turned it to Jisung to show. “The only other thing I have is coffee, but it’s a bit late to be drinking that. Is hot water okay?”</p><p>“Hot water is good,” Jisung said.</p><p>Minho smiled sheepishly as he folded the box flat and stuck it in a cardboard box filled with other recyclable items. “This is kind of embarrassing,” he said. “I don’t really have people over often.”</p><p>“It’s okay!” Jisung chirped, sounding like a broken record. He didn’t add that just being here was good enough for him.</p><p>Minho poured two steaming mugs of water and came around to sit next to Jisung at the table. Both mugs were printed with old album art. They weren’t familiar to Jisung but he recognized the faces of four members of The Beatles on both of them. Minho set down a packet of printed text with a jungle of pencilled annotations growing out of the margins. Jisung surreptitiously craned his neck to see what it was.</p><p>“This is what my work looks like after a visit to my publisher these days,” Minho huffed, even going as far as to cross his arms in front of his chest.</p><p>Sitting cross-legged, pouting with his whole body, clad in his matching sweat set, Minho suddenly looked much younger. His hair had been pushed slightly out of place and some stray strands were still sticking up, reaching out towards the ceiling like little feelers. Probably from when he’d pulled his sweatshirt over his head. The fact that Minho hadn’t smoothed his hair down afterwards made Jisung smile.</p><p>“What are you laughing about?” Minho grouched.</p><p>“Nothing, it’s just that usually you’re the one marking up <em> my </em>work,” Jisung said. “Now I see that you’re just taking out your frustration on me.”</p><p>“I know I’m unconventional,” Minho whined, “But my publisher is just downright austere! I don’t know why he got into the business anyways, he has no appreciation for my artistic craft!”</p><p>Minho continued to complain for a while, which Jisung enjoyed, mostly by laughing at him. It was only when Jisung’s mug was half empty did Minho breach the subject of Jisung’s home life.</p><p>“So, are you comfortable talking about it now?”</p><p>Jisung blinked, momentarily having forgotten what ‘it’ was. When he realized, he closed the soft cover of Minho’s novel. (He’d only gotten four pages in before getting distracted by the author himself). “I guess so. As ready as I’ll ever be.” Jisung squared his shoulders and noticed belatedly how Minho followed the action with amused eyes.</p><p>Jisung offered a sheepish smile and Minho said, “It explains at the very least why you love spending time at the convenience store so much. And here I thought you were just using me for free essay feedback.”</p><p>“No!” Jisung blurted. “You’re great company too.” Minho nodded and waited for Jisung to continue. “But you’re right. My mom can find a million reasons to yell at me, it doesn’t matter what I do.”Jisung took a deep breath. The words were at the tip of his tongue, already organized and queued up to be spoken. He just needed the courage to voice them.</p><p>“...I usually just stay out as late as I can, just to avoid her. Sometimes if I’m lucky she’s given up waiting up for me and she’s asleep by the time I come home. And my dad comes home even later than I do, if he does at all.”</p><p>“I mean, I get that my mom is stressed about my dad and how their relationship is on the rocks. But why does she have to take it out on me? It’s like because their marriage is failing, I have to be extra perfect to make up for it for the whole family.” Jisung felt the stirrings of anger in his chest as he continued speaking.</p><p>“It’s not like I <em> want </em> to be a bad student or bad kid or whatever, but because <em> she’s </em> obsessed with being able to tell her friends that her son is doing well- the only time she even checks on <em> me </em>instead of just talking at me is so she can compare me with her friends’ kids- it makes me not want to be good. I don’t owe her shit! Why can’t I just be me, for myself? I sure as hell don’t want to grow up to be like my parents!”</p><p>Jisung practically shouted the last sentence and both he and Minho were silent, shocked at the volume of Jisung’s outburst. Quickly feeling embarrassed, Jisung fumbled for words. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, I just-”</p><p>Jisung cut off as he saw Minho open his arms in front of him. He had a somber expression on his face, and in answer to Jisung’s questioning gaze, he gave a nod towards his chest as if to say, <em> come on in </em>. Tentatively, Jisung scooted off of his sitting cushion towards Minho. He leaned forward, and then Minho tugged and Jisung crumpled into Minho’s arms.</p><p>Jisung closed his eyes and pushed harsh breaths out of his nose. There was a pinch in his throat and he suddenly realized he was on the brink of tears. He focused on steadying his breathing, inhaling and exhaling in time with the warm hand smoothing up and down his back. A long time passed in silence before Jisung was sure that the crisis of tears had been averted.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Minho apologized. “I don't know the right words to say, but I’ll be here to listen, if you want me to.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>At Jisung’s silence, Minho faltered. “Tell me if I’m not helping. I don’t know what to do in this situation- I- honestly, this is my first time doing this.”</p><p>“It’s helping,” Jisung mumbled into Minho’s purple sweatshirt. What he'd said barely scraped the surface of his pent up feelings over the past several years, but even letting a little bit out helped. </p><p>They sat like that for a bit more until Jisung stirred and Minho allowed him to extricate himself from the embrace. Jisung scooted back to his sitting cushion, wiping his palms on his knees, too embarrassed at the vulnerability he’d shown to look Minho in the eyes.</p><p>“Thanks hyung,” Jisung said into his mug of water, which had long gone cold.</p><p>Minho reached forward and placed a hand on Jisung’s knee. “No Jisung, thank you. For trusting me.”</p><p>They made eye contact over the rim of Jisung’s mug and he realized that things were okay. A small feeling that could almost be described as lightness flickered in Jisung’s heart.</p><p>“At the very least, you’re graduating next year and there’s the possibility of moving out,” Minho said.</p><p>Graduation was still a Pandora’s box that Jisung was reluctant to open, but he did have a question on the topic of moving out. “Why did you decide to move out? And become a writer right away? You didn’t go to university, right?”</p><p>“Ah,” Minho said, “That’s pretty simple. As for becoming an author, I always enjoyed creative activities since elementary school, but it wasn’t until high school that I really started reading a lot more, and writing for myself. By the time I graduated, I was quite sure of what I wanted to do.”</p><p>“As for moving out, I wanted to get out from under my parents and live in a space of my own that was conducive to creative output. My parents weren’t very happy when I told them I wasn’t going to pursue higher education, and moving out was also a reaction to that tension. Things are better now that I’ve at least got a published book under my belt, but they’re still not too happy about my decision. Obviously, it’s not comparable to your situation, but at the root of it I was also trying to get away from my parents. Strike out on my own, kinda.”</p><p>“How’d your parents react to you telling them you wanted to be a writer?”</p><p>Minho laughed to himself, seemingly recalling the memory. “Well, it probably would have gone over a lot better if I’d told them I was still planning on getting a degree. The institutionalized education system is just not for me- but that’s a whole shitton of grievances for another day.”</p><p>Minho seemed to mull over his words for a moment before he continued. “My parents are.. how do I put it.. they prefer conventionality and the safety that comes with it. That’s probably also due to people’s natural shift towards conservatism as they grow older, which terrifies me to think about for myself, but anyways, when I told my parents about my plan they were obviously worried and a little alarmed too. Understandably so, skipping university to write books for a living is a pretty risky plan on paper.”</p><p>“Before I told them about my decision, my dad actually sat me down- I was in high school then- and told me, there are two ways you can live your life. You can study something practical and get a high paying job doing something you maybe don’t love, but you’ll be well-off, you’ll be able to separate work and life, and you’ll be able to retire at a reasonable age to focus on things that you do like. Or, you can study something impractical for no reason other than the fact that you love it and spend the rest of your life doing it, no matter how little the money is. Your work becomes your life and you never stop working until you die. I think he was trying to convince me to choose the first option, but well, you can see how that turned out.”</p><p>Minho gave a sardonic smile. “It’s one of the few things my dad has said to me that I still keep thinking about. Even if it’s not in the way he wanted me to.”</p><p>Jisung nodded his head. His eyes were unfocused and knew he probably looked like he wasn’t listening. Minho’s soliloquy had put him into a calm trance. Still, the words had absorbed deep into the heart of Jisung’s conscience.</p><p>“You’re looking a little tired,” Minho said.</p><p>Jisung gave a faint smile. It was true that his display of emotion from earlier had left him feeling drained. “I might go home soon,” he replied.</p><p>“Will your mother still be up?” Minho asked.</p><p>Jisung checked the time. It was late, much later than he’d expected. “She’s probably already asleep.”</p><p>“In that case, you’re clear to go home, aren’t you?”</p><p>“If you put it that way, yes,” Jisung replied.</p><p>“You’re always free to come over if you have the time,” Minho said. "Or to talk again."</p><p>“Really? I don’t want to be a bother.” That didn’t stop the sparks of excitement Jisung felt.</p><p>“As long as you bring something you can work on quietly, because I need to do my own work too,” Minho said.</p><p>Jisung couldn’t contain his grin. For the first time in a long time, he felt optimism for tomorrow, and the next week, and the week after that.</p><p>“Has anyone ever told you it looks like even your hair is puffing up when you smile? Like one of those Ghibli animations,” Minho said. “Now grab your jacket, I’ll walk you home.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>
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</p><p>An average looking boy stood on the roof of the main building of an (admittedly above average-looking) high school, looking out across an average vista of Seoul. His disciplined posture drew a thin, straight line against the wash of blue sky and with the wind brushing his hair, he looked a lot like a shoujo protagonist waiting on the roof for a confession.</p><p><em> It was too bad </em> , Seungmin found himself thinking bitterly, <em> that he had pretty much squandered any chances of a confession at this point. </em>He straightened his uniform absently as he scanned the students milling on the grounds below. Hyunjin had caught him during his study period in the library and hissed at him to meet on the roof after classes were over. Seungmin resigned himself to the meeting, where he anticipated that Hyunjin would put an end to whatever ambiguous, covert friendship they’d shared for the past few months, obviously in a place where other students wouldn’t see Hyunjin associating with someone of his social stature. But as usual, Hyunjin was late. (Or even worse, there was the possibility that Seungmin would be stood up.)</p><p>“Seungmin.”</p><p>Seungmin turned away from the rails and found Hyunjin standing at the door to the roof. His uniform was in its usual state of post-school disorder. He was wearing his Doc Martens. Seungmin remembered Hyunjin complaining incessantly when they first started meeting about how painful they were to break in, and then declaring to Seungmin with excitement just two weeks ago that he’d finally succeeded and they fit him perfectly now. The radio silence between the two since their fight had been so stark that two weeks ago seemed like a different lifetime.</p><p>“Hey,” Seungmin said.</p><p>“Hey,” Hyunjin said.</p><p>After a moment, Hyunjin crossed the roof and came to stand next to Seungmin looking out over the rails. Seungmin was suddenly thankful that this conversation was taking place here, where they wouldn’t have to speak face to face.</p><p>“You have something to say, don’t you?” Seungmin prodded after more silence, wanting to get this over with.</p><p>“..I’m sorry.”</p><p>Seungmin blinked. Those words were not in his calculations. “What?”</p><p>“I’m sorry for getting so angry with you when you had to go to hagwon. I let my emotions get the best of me when I should have been more understanding of where you’re coming from, and yeah, I’m really sorry about blowing up like that.” Hyunjin picked at one of the buttons of his uniform as he fixed his eyes on the grounds below.</p><p>Seungmin was speechless. He’d really expected after their fight for Hyunjin to decide that his previous acts of friendship had been mistaken and Seungmin just wasn’t his type of person. Too uncool in every sense of the word. But no, Hyunjin had approached him first and apologized. Even with their obvious differences on display, Hyunjin had chosen to reinvest. </p><p>As Seungmin felt that sink in, he finally turned to look at Hyunjin. Leaning against the rail, Seungmin saw an emotional, sincere, passionate, immature boy with a mischievous charm that Seungmin was helpless to.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin repeated for the fourth time. “You don’t have to accept it but-”</p><p>“Apology accepted,” Seungmin said quickly, with a firmness that surprised even him. “I’m sorry too,” He truly was. “I said some not so nice things.”</p><p>Finally, a grin spread across Hyunjin’s face. “Yeah, you kinda did.” God, he was gorgeous when he smiled.</p><p>“I’ll be more careful about scheduling my free time,” Seungmin said.</p><p>Hyunjin laughed. “Isn’t that like, an oxy-whatcha ma-call-it? Scheduled free time?”</p><p>“Oxymoron.” Seungmin corrected immediately. He’d offer to give Hyunjin English tutoring at some point in the near future. Then: “Hey! I’m being serious here. So that something like that doesn’t happen again.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed. “But Seungmin, to be honest, I really don’t understand why you’re so stiff about studying and stuff.” Seungmin flinched at the connotation of stiff and Hyunjin hurried to apologize, “No, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I just meant disciplined! I mean, you’re already so smart, it’s like, it’s okay to not be perfect sometimes, right? You said it because of your parents, right? Won’t they understand? I want to understand but no matter how I try to put myself in your shoes I just can’t get what you’re thinking.”</p><p>Seungmin paused as he tried to find the words to describe his complicated feelings towards his strive for perfection. He wasn’t sure he could even explain it to himself.</p><p>“It’s.. well,” Seungmin began. “I feel a lot of pressure to achieve, like score well and get into a good school and stuff. I feel like people have so many expectations of me, and the more I achieve the higher they get.”</p><p>“But my parents have never put negative pressure on me. I want to do well for them because they’re so supportive of me, I feel like I owe it to them. Like, I know that if I failed a test or something, they would be disappointed but they wouldn’t get mad or anything, they would even offer to help me study for the next one. They’ve never given me anything but love- I just feel this huge pressure on me- and it comes from me- not to fail them because they’ve never failed me.”</p><p>It was hard to describe the mixture of love, obligation, indebtedness, and fear of disappointment that Seungmin had for his parents, but it combined for a force that was one of the most powerful motivators in his life. He looked at Hyunjin, desperately hoping to communicate this feeling to him, but no such luck. Hyunjin’s face was a complete blank.</p><p>“Everything you’re saying makes sense to me,” Hyunjin said, “But even when I think about it that way, I still can’t really imagine how you feel.”</p><p>Seungmin frowned. “That’s why I use my time to study, it’s like there’s always this voice in the back of my head asking me if they’d be disappointed with my time management. But we can hangout on Sundays! That’s the one day that I don’t have prep classes scheduled, and I’m allowed to play computer games and go to the pc bang and stuff like that on the weekends.”</p><p>“You can’t play computer games on the weekdays?” Hyunjin’s mouth fell open. Apparently those were the only words he’d successfully processed.</p><p>“Well I don’t really play games anymore, I mostly just surf the internet or watch videos when I go on the computer for fun, but yeah, isn’t that normal?”</p><p>“Wait, so you can’t even use the computer for fun on weekdays? Of course that’s not normal!” Hyunjin was in disbelief.</p><p>Seungmin shrugged. “Those were the rules in my house when I was growing up, it’s really not that big of a deal. It feels normal to me. I’ll read a book if I ever get free time on the weekdays, but usually I just finish my work and go to sleep.”</p><p>Hyunjin seemed stunned into silence. “I think I would die,” he finally said.</p><p>Seungmin laughed weakly. “I guess we really are different.”</p><p>“But that’s why I like-” Hyunjin started. “That’s why I like spending time with you.”</p><p>Seungmin offered a small smile back. “That’s why I like spending time with you too.”</p><p>
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</p><p>Suddenly, Jisung’s days flowed along quickly and easily. The next time Hyunjin called Jisung to their usual pc bang, Seungmin was already sitting next to Hyunjin when he arrived. (It was a Sunday, obviously.) Jisung was able to breathe a sigh of relief.</p><p>He hung out with the guys, sometimes with Hyunjin, sometimes without him. When the others asked where Hyunjin was, Jisung would just shrug and tell them that Hyunjin was really trying to get his grades up. It wasn’t a lie, after all, Hyunjin had managed to convince Seungmin to hang out on weekdays before or after he went to hagwon, as long as they were studying at a cafe. </p><p>But the real reason for the brightening of his world, was, of course, his periodic visits with Minho. He started going over to Minho’s place one a week, and then twice, and then basically any time that he had a written assignment for Minho to help him with. (He had discovered, to his delight, that Minho was useless at math and science, which were Jisung’s best subjects.)</p><p> </p><p>“What are you working on today?”</p><p>“Physics.”</p><p>“Which problem are you on?”</p><p>“Number eight.”</p><p>Minho pored over the problem while Jisung wrote some chicken scratch on the worksheet and then circled D.</p><p>“Isn’t the answer B?”</p><p>“<em> No </em>, hyung. Think about the angular acceleration. It’s D.” Jisung laughed.</p><p>“No, I’m sure it’s B! Check the back of the book for the answer key.”</p><p>“If you insist..”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“See! I told you hyung! It’s D.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“I wish you could see your face right now, oh my god. Hey hyung, it’s ok if you suck at physics, you’re an author!”</p><p>“......”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Jisung, mind if I put on some music?”</p><p>“Sure! ... Oh, I like this song! Who is it?”</p><p>“It’s The Alan Parson’s Project. Glad you like it! After this album is over, you can pick the music. We can alternate like that, we each get to play an album before passing it to the other person.”</p><p>“Oooh, that sounds great! Just wait, I’m gonna show you all kinds of awesome artists. Cuz I’m just guessing here but you don’t really listen to what’s popular now, right?”</p><p>Minho stuck his nose up. “So what!”</p><p>Jisung just laughed. “So nothing, hyung.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Jisung, I listened to more of that artist you played the last time, damn, her stuff is amazing.”</p><p>“I told you that Hoody was good, hyung. You’re just prejudiced cuz it’s not your old geezer philosophical rock.”</p><p>Jisung received a stink eye for that comment. They worked in silence for a while until:</p><p>“Hyung, what’s this music that you’re playing right now?”</p><p>“It’s Soft Machine. Their first album. Why?”</p><p>“Could you switch the music? Pleeeeease?”</p><p>“What? Are you saying you don’t like it? But it’s so good!”</p><p>“It’s so weird hyung! Switch it pleeeeease.”</p><p>“Well too bad, because we agreed that we each get to play a full album before we switch.”</p><p>“Hyuuuung,”</p><p>“I regret saying <em> anything </em> nice about your music!”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“You really don’t have to feed me every time I come over. You’re already doing so much for me.”</p><p>“I know, but I do anyway. Aren’t I the greatest?”</p><p>“Are you sure that pot is big enough to make two packs of ramen? It looks like it’s about to overflow.”</p><p>“Trust me, I’ve got this. Now tell me more about that webcomic that you were so excited about updating today.”</p><p>“Yeah! Okay so, this webtoon is actually a series of weird fantasy-horror short stories, and they started a new story last week, so the chapter that came out is a continuation of that, and it’s basically like a zombie story except that zombies are just like regular people, the only thing that changes when you get infected is that regular food looks and tastes like human flesh, and human flesh looks and tastes like regular food. So like, when you look at a plate of fried chicken, it looks like a bunch of human toes to you, and when you’re walking on the streets all of the other people look like the most delicious fried chicken drumsticks you’ve ever seen-”</p><p>The water started boiling and Minho took his eyes from Jisung to get the ramen out. “Go on,” Minho dropped two blocks of ramen into the pot and turned his back to the stove as Jisung’s eyes widened in terror.</p><p>“Ohmygod it’s boiling over! Turn the stove off hyung!”</p><p>“Shit, ow, fuck!”</p><p>“The water’s hot, are you okay? Where’s the paper towels?”</p><p>A couple minutes and many paper towels later: “...Thanks Jisung, yeah, let me just run some cold water over my hands.”</p><p>“...So if the ramen is ruined, does this mean that we can order delivery?”</p><p>“Do I look like I’m made of money?! Besides, the ramen isn’t ruined, just the stuff that got on the floor. I’ll just make it like usual and we can split a microwaveable rice container and everything will be fine.”</p><p>“..Ugh. Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“You look like a wet cat today, hyung.”</p><p>“Meeting with the publisher.”</p><p>“It didn’t go well?”</p><p>“Of course not. He basically told me that the ending I’m working towards has no meaning. It’s a dead end. I’ve got to revise again.”</p><p>“Aw man,” Jisung pouted. “You’ll get your idea approved soon, don’t worry. By the way, will you help me with the final edits of my essay? I’m turning it in tomorrow.”</p><p>“Sure. Even if my writing is in shambles right now, I can at the very least make sure that yours is good.” </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung look! My <em>Animal</em> <em>Farm</em> essay got an A!”</p><p>“What!? No way! ... No, I take that back, why would I be surprised when you had my help?”</p><p>“Egotistical much?”</p><p>“Well don’t I deserve to be?”</p><p>“..True.”</p><p>“But there’s only so much I can do. You wouldn’t have gotten an A if your thesis wasn’t an A-worthy thesis in the first place.”</p><p>“It’s been ages since I got an A in Literature, thank you soooo much Minho hyung.”</p><p>“It was all you Jisung. But you know I’m always glad to help.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll never guess what I ordered today.”</p><p>“Oh my god, you ordered something? But you’re usually so stingy!”</p><p>“Yeah but you told me the other day that your essay got an A! That’s something to celebrate isn’t it?”</p><p>When Minho came back from meeting the delivery person in the lobby, Jisung couldn’t hold back his squeal. “Cheesecake!? Hyung!! How did you know that’s my favorite!?”</p><p>“You mentioned it once,” Minho said, looking self-satisfied.</p><p>“I don’t even remember mentioning it,”Jisung said as he got busy taking the cake out of the box and grabbing plates and forks (he knew his way around the cabinets by now.)</p><p>“Well that’s just because I’m the best. A writer has to have a good memory, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Jisung,”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“What’s that thing you’re always watching on your phone when you’re doing homework?”</p><p>“Oh this? It’s a jellyfish tank livecam! Isn’t it great?”</p><p>“Those are jellyfish? ... I guess they are. So why do you watch it?”</p><p>“It just sets the mood I guess. Makes me feel relaxed. I like having some white noise. Sometimes I switch it up to like, pandas or eagles or something, this website has a ton of different streams.”</p><p>“How do they even set something like this up?”</p><p>“Most of the cameras are set up for research anyways, the fact that they’re broadcasted to us regular people is just an added bonus.”</p><p>“..Actually, that’s kind of nice.”</p><p>“Yeah! I especially like the jellyfish one because they play this meditative music.” Jisung took one of his wireless earbuds out and offered it to Minho. “Wanna listen?”</p><p>Minho put the earbud in and they both stared at Jisung’s phone for a while. No words needed to be spoken because, like Minho had said, it was actually really nice.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p>“My teacher gave us a new essay prompt!”</p><p>“Finally! So what are you gonna write about?”</p><p>“...I have to read the book first.”</p><p>“You haven’t read it yet?! Hasn’t your teacher been assigning reading as you go along?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I never do that. I can get away with bullshitting decently during class discussions.”</p><p>“...Sometimes I forget why you’re friends with Hyunjin until stuff like this reminds me.”</p><p>“On the bright side, I can read it here with hyung!”</p><p>“I have my own work to do you know- alright, look, fine, if you finish reading at least half of the book by yourself tonight, I’ll let you have the aux cord for the <em> entire day </em> the next time you come over.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“My publisher shot down another idea.”</p><p>“He’s the worst!” Jisung said emphatically.</p><p>“I think he’s getting sick of me trying to force this same idea over and over again. He suggested to me today that maybe I should bring some different directions to look at for our next meeting, ‘just in case’.”</p><p>Jisung thought about it. “But if you still believe in your idea, you should stick with it, right? At some point there’s gotta be a breakthrough.”</p><p>Minho gave Jisung a tired smile. “Yeah, that’s the hope.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung,”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“What do you think about Hyunjin and Seungmin?” It was actually something Jisung had wanted to ask Minho for a while. Minho was probably the only third party he could talk to about the pair, and Jisung was only human and not above gossip.</p><p>Minho snorted. “They’re cute. I knew Hyunjin liked Seungmin before I even knew who Seungmin was.”</p><p>“No way! How did that happen?”</p><p>“I read some of my novel to Hyunjin and Jeongin during Christmas and he asked me for a copy of it to give to someone. I pretty much knew then that it was someone he was crushing on, he wouldn’t give a shit otherwise. Hell, I think even Jeongin knew.”</p><p>“God, he’s the worst!” Jisung cackled. “I’m <em> always </em> third wheeling with them. It’s a good thing Seungmin is cool.”</p><p>“I’m glad Hyunjin met someone like Seungmin. In this case, opposites do attract.”</p><p>“It’s just so crazy seeing Hyunjin so... crazy over someone. He usually tried to act cool about it when he got girlfriends in the past.”</p><p>“I think he’s still trying to play it cool. lt’s just that this is the best he can do.”</p><p>“I’ve never seen him so eager to meet up with someone to <em> study </em>.”</p><p>“Ah, young love,” Minho mused.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jisung repeated, laughing a bit nervously. “Young love.”</p><p>
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</p><p>In the following weeks, Jisung spent his time talking with Minho about every topic under the sun. He’d bring up just about anything and Minho would have countless ideas to dispense about it or any number of related conversations. Even when he eventually worked up the courage to talk about the “dumb” stuff that he concerned himself with, like his gripes with the Valorant match-making system, Minho was more than happy to listen, asking questions and grunting in agreeance at all the right times. Jisung asked Minho once if talking about video games or webtoons was really interesting to him, but Minho had just replied that “as a writer, the more I know about the world, the better.”</p><p>And so Jisung spent less and less time at home, more and more time with Minho, and his days flowed along quickly and easily. </p><p>
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</p><p>Jisung was trying to read Minho’s novel while he came over to Minho’s apartment (as an act of procrastinating his actual work, of course), but usually he snooped around on Minho’s shelves and drawers while Minho reviewed his writing. Jisung was familiar enough with the apartment to gain access to the space behind the divider separating the living room and the space where Minho slept. In addition to a bed, there was an actual work desk with a swivel chair behind the divider where Jisung would work sometimes if Minho’s papers were taking up all the space in the living room, like now. Next to the desk was a file of all of Minho’s old or rejected manuscripts which Jisung was slowly eating through. Minho never asked him what he thought about them, but it seemed like he was okay with Jisung reading everything, which kind of surprised Jisung. Weren’t writers supposed to be protective of their work? Maybe Minho thought so little of Jisung's writing skills that he didn't bother worrying about his opinion.</p><p>The manuscripts usually came in stapled packets, sometimes fastened by a clip if they were too thick. The packet that Jisung picked up this time was pretty thin, thank god, as interested as he was, he couldn’t handle the density of Minho’s writing for more than a couple pages at a time. It was perfectly crisp. Clearly it had never been flipped through before. Jisung slumped down in the rolling chair at Minho’s desk.</p><p>He began to read and his mouth dried up. There was no other word to describe it- it was porn. Somewhere in the depths of Jisung’s brain, his subconscious offered up that yes, there was another word: ‘erotica’. The text got right into it- there was barely a mention of foreplay before the pages were consumed by ferocious hunger and lust. Jisung tried to swallow and his throat clicked. Panicked, he snuck a glance at Minho, who was still humming lowly to himself as he marked up Jisung’s essay on the other side of the room.</p><p>Turning his attention back to the text in his now damp hands- when had the room gotten so hot?- Jisung read on in morbid fascination. it was about two men, Jisung realized. The language Minho was using to describe the act was so abstract that it took him a while to pick up on that. Between the lines of hot and heavy acts, Jisung could sense that the two men weren’t just using each other- but they weren’t in love either. It was complicated. It was tense. And it was making Jisung feel that way too. With every pump, slide, and bite described in the text, Jisung felt a bullet of sweat run down his face, all the way from his temple to the collar of his sweater- which suddenly felt much too thick. Who were these men? How would it end? Would they bask in the afterglow together or pretend they didn’t know each other? There were a billion outcomes in between. Jisung flipped the packet, scanning the lines urgently, feeling a nauseating desire to see the outcome.</p><p>For a single scene, it was an extremely long story. True to Minho’s style, it was an artful, vivid, and complex study not just of the physical but the psychological act. Whole passages were dedicated just to metaphor. Jisung suspected that if he were to read closely, he would be able to disentangle the relationship through all the clues that Minho planted. But now, biting his lip, heart hammering in his chest, with Minho sat in the same room, Jisung could only latch onto and process the filthy phrases that meant the two partners in the story were coming close to climax. Just a couple more thrusts, Jisung found himself anticipating-</p><p>“Jisung, I’m done editing your rough draft,” Minho announced.</p><p>Jisung almost jumped off the chair. Hastily shoving the manuscript back into what Jisung hoped was its proper place, he put on his best poker face and hoped he didn’t look too red. “Oh- uh cool-! I mean, thanks!”</p><p>Minho rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me. Come over here so we can work things over.”</p><p>Jisung’s eyes saucered. “Um, what?” His voice shot up an octave.</p><p>“What’s up with you today?” Minho looked unimpressed. “The essay.” He held it up. Jisung instantly felt a hot wave of lava roll over him in embarrassment. How had he skipped to such... dirty conclusions? Obviously because of what he’d just been reading... that was Minho’s fault! Still feeling like a tomato, Jisung adjusted himself and pulled his sweater over his front before he approached Minho.</p><p>“You look like a wounded animal... sheesh, I’m not going to bite,” Minho said. Jisung’s pulse jumped at Minho’s phrasing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted him to bite or not. Minho patted the place next to him on the carpet.</p><p>Jisung gulped and sat down.</p><p>“Jisung, you look kind of feverish,” Minho was squinting at him. “Are you alright?” He started to raise his hand to Jisung’s forehead but Jisung recoiled at the speed of light.</p><p>“I’m fine!” Jisung shouted. “I’m fine! I’m cool! Not hot!”</p><p>Minho gave this faintly amused expression and leaned back. “If you say so.”</p><p>Jisung breathed a sigh of deflation.</p><p>“So, about the essay...” Minho began. Jisung was relieved at the change in topic.</p><p>
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</p><p>Jisung could not stop thinking about it. <em> It </em> being the gay porn written by no other than <em> Minho </em> that he’d accidentally ended up reading. <em> Erotica </em>, he brain kept correcting him, and then Jisung felt like banging his forehead into the nearest wall every time. The word had the connotation of a middle aged housewife giggling at dirty shoujo comics when her husband was out of the house, which was not something Jisung particularly wanted to associate his experience with.</p><p>It wasn’t like Jisung was a prude. He was a teenage boy and he’d watched his fair share of porn. (He wasn’t a porn addict though! That would be Eric.) Foreign websites were especially easy to access and could sometimes even be found on accident. It all depended on where the links on the shady manga scanlation websites Jisung frequented were redirected to. It was safe to say their entire friend group had picked up on a lot of choice English vocabulary that wasn’t taught in school.</p><p>Still, nothing Jisung had watched had left such a lasting impression on him as that story. So Minho was gay? Or at least liked men. He wouldn’t be writing this kind of thing if he wasn’t.. right? He certainly seemed to have an in depth knowledge of the logistics of gay sex, judging by the detail he was able to inject into that story. The kind that was probably only obtained through first hand experience... had Minho based that story on a personal experience?</p><p>Jisung actually cracked his knee against the bottom of his desk as the thought of Minho doing the things he’d written flashed into his mind.</p><p>“Han Jisung, is everything alright back there?” His homeroom teacher asked in a tone that communicated more annoyance than concern.</p><p>“Everythi- Everything’s alright,” Jisung replied quickly, voice cracking on his first try. A ripple of giggles passed through the class and Changbin flicked a gum wrapper at Jisung’s head and shot him a grin, obviously enjoying Jisung’s plight.</p><p>“At least try to make it look like you’re staying with us next time, I’m sure the whole class would appreciate it,” their homeroom teacher drawled before turning back to the lesson. Jisung barely heard him, busy banishing the completely unwelcome thoughts from his traitorous mind.</p><p>He was still thinking about it when class had been dismissed and Changbin was chattering his ear off as they walked to meet up with the others near the gates. Minho <em> had </em> mentioned offhandedly about past relationships, so the possibility was there. Hell, he didn’t have to date, he could have just hooked up!</p><p>Jisung had no idea why he was ruminating over this anyways. So what, he’d accidentally read something that Minho hyung probably wouldn’t have wanted him to read. Jisung would just keep quiet about it and Minho would never know. No harm, no foul. It didn’t change anything. There was nothing wrong with being gay, nothing wrong with having gay sex. The way Minho had described it had been kinda hot, actually...</p><p>Jisung seriously wanted to knock himself out with the heaviest textbook he owned.</p><p>“You guys wanna grab corn dogs before we head to the pc cafe?” Eric chirped as they approached. Hyunjin was missing, which didn’t even faze Jisung at this point.</p><p>Actually, Jisung was down for that. “Sure! At the place a block down from the pc cafe?”</p><p>“I think they’re closed,” Changbin said.</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Yeah, I actually went last night cuz I was craving a midnight snack, but apparently they started renovations just this week.”</p><p>“Aw, shit,” Sunwoo said.</p><p>Eric showed the other three his phone. “I found this other place near the pc cafe, do you want to try it?”</p><p>“Nah,” Sunwoo said, “I’ve tried that place before and it’s kinda gay.”</p><p>Jisung couldn’t help but flinch. On second thought.. “Uh, I just realized I have something, sorry, can’t hang out today.”</p><p>“What? Aw, come on man,” Eric pouted.</p><p>“I should probably actually attend hagwon..” Changbin began carefully.</p><p>“Ugh, be that way,” Sunwoo said. He fumbled a pack of cigs out of his pocket and then shoved them back out of sight in a hurry as a teacher walked past. Once the teacher was out of sight he said, “So see you guys tomorrow, I guess? If we’re not doing anything I’m not sticking around on campus any longer.”</p><p>The group dissolved and Jisung found himself, predictably, in front of the convenience store again.</p><p>The automatic doors slid open and Minho looked up. He was wearing his reading glasses today. Jisung had heard him complain about his contacts irritating his eyes at least two dozen times by now. They were a squarish but fashionable style with wire rims that complemented the definition of his face like magic. The ceiling lights caught on the rims and cast feather-light shadows on high cheekbones blanketed by crisp sheets of seamless skin. Down a strong, angular jaw that sometimes carried the faintest hint of stubble and tapered into a doll-like chin. Across a pouty mouth that could transform his entire face on a whim.</p><p>Jisung had noted it when they’d first met, but today, like a sledgehammer, he was struck again by how handsome Minho really was. It was in a completely balanced, uncategorizable type of beauty that wasn’t overpowering in any single aspect. He was masculine, of course, with a prominent brow and naturally dark, intense eyebrows. But then he fluttered his long lashes and he was pretty as well. His stature was compact but obviously athletic (Jisung couldn’t help but wonder when he found the time to exercise). And his features were arranged in such a way that you wondered if he was even human until he moved. Combined with his autonomous, self-assured convictions towards life, he was the type of person that no one else even came close to being alike to. </p><p>Minho’s big, deep eyes flickered to life upon seeing him and Jisung got this strange, sinking feeling. Well, shit.</p><p>
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</p><p>By the time Minho’s shift was over and they were heading towards Minho’s building, the sinking feeling had become a mass of nerves writhing in the pit of Jisung’s stomach. He didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what he was feeling right now. No wonder he’d always been so eager to see Minho and just drink up his presence. All of the things Jisung admired about Minho were things he’d noticed before, and now he was just seeing them in a new light.</p><p>In other words, reading that story had been the spark, but Jisung realized that he had already been soaking in a pool of gasoline. And now his feelings for Minho had caught fire and Jisung was scared shitless.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>jisung’s jellyfish website: https://explore.org/livecams/aquarium-of-the-pacific/seajelly-cam</p><p>i thought i was updating in a timely fashion and then i realized that it's been almost a month.. i'm so sorry LOL! it was truly a reality check about how slowly i write... anyways i think i'm satisfied with the balance of lighter and heavier scenes in this chapter. and excited to keep writing! i'm finally getting to stuff i planned waaaay back that i've been waiting to be able to write all this time.</p><p>as always, let me know what you think! i really, really appreciate that ppl are somehow keeping up with this fic chapter by chapter despite the crazy sporadic updates TT_TT thank you so much &lt;3 &lt;3 </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/tomatojuicee">CC!</a></p>
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